Inheritance: Divide
by No1OfConsequence
Summary: Arlen and Lynde of Cathalorn have parted ways, each going where they feel they belong. But all is not well in Cathalorn or the Unknown lands. They are destined to each fight their separate battles, but without each other will they succeed?
1. Before Dawn

**Welcome to Divide, my friends. Before we get started, I would like to thank my brother (who probably won't view this but whatever) for making the cover. Now without further ado, Divide. No that wasn't a command; just read the story.**

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Arlen swung at the training dummy in front of him, never missing and always striking to kill. It was before dawn at the training ground of Cathalorn. This is where the village guard would learn the ways of combat if it were that time, which it was not. Right now he was practicing to shake off a nightmare.

His nightmare was terrible. It showed him all the battles he had won but instead showed him losing. It showed every danger successful in taking his life or the life of one of his companions. In that dream he'd been stabbed, frozen, burned, destroyed with magic, lost his mind, or someone else suffering a similar fate. In reality they had won every battle, but now he saw how vulnerable they had been and was scared.

They should have lost. Facing enemies ten times stronger than them with magic at their side should not have been as easy as it was. Was it fate, luck, or the divine that chose who won or lost because he always thought it was skill. The world seemed so much simpler before his adventures and now it was nothing but complicated.

After his last stroke against the dummy he lowered his sword. It had been hit enough and would give him no more skill than what he already had. He stabbed Mor'ranr—his Elven sword—into the ground and said to himself, "Who won those battles?"

He stood there for a few seconds before the sun came up over the horizon. He could feel its warmth on his back and saw its light on the ground. He took a second to bask in the heat of the sun after such a cold night before noticing the shadow of a person on the ground behind him with a sword. He assumed it was an enemy and drew his sword up from the ground and swung it at the person behind him. He misjudged both the location of the shadow's owner and the owner herself.

He actually felt rather silly now, swinging at his own mother. Her form could not be mistaken for that of a warrior's, though her gaze could and the way she held her longsword also could. "So this is what you've learned," she said, "to attack anyone who looks like a warrior?"

Arlen frowned at her. "You shouldn't have snuck up on me like that," he said. "Though I am sorry I swung at you, the blame may not be entirely mine."

She scoffed. "You're also being rude to your mother."

Arlen looked at the longsword and was confused. He didn't know she had one. "Where did you get that?" he asked.

"I have kept this sword for many years," she explained. "Your father had it forged for Gratian and… well, I have kept it ever since."

He was surprised with her. "You had it all this time and you never said anything?"

She nodded. "Your father knew, but he didn't care. Or if he did, he didn't show it. Your father went through more than most men do. He was in the thick of war only to return home and lose a son. He lost his own father to war and turned the hurt into a story for you youngsters. You've lost plenty too."

"Have I?" he asked.

"You lost a brother when you were young and a father when you were older," she said. "You lost a friend, your sword, and more than a few fights. If anyone has a right to be mopey, it's you." She then raised her sword to attack and said in a fierce tone he had never heard her speak in before, "But you're not going to mope or I'll kill you."

Arlen raised his sword just in time to parry her attack. She then attacked again and again until he grabbed her wrist and she punched him in the gut. He staggered back and she said, "If you can't win against your own mother, who will you win against?"

Arlen shook his head. "Whatever you're doing it won't work," he said. "I'm not going to kill you."

"I'm not trying to get you to kill me; I'm trying to get you useful again," she said. "Now come home. Breakfast is waiting."

He sheathed his sword after she did—as he didn't entirely trust her with that thing—and followed her home. When they got there he looked at the familiar porch, the logs of the walls, and the cobblestone foundation. They were things he had known since he was a child, with the exception of a patch over the wall of Ehren's room. This was home.

The house had been a home to his family for four generations, ever since his great-grandfather built it for himself and his bride-to-be. Now it housed Arlen, his brother Ehren, his mother Emera, and Herbst—currently just a guest until he could find another place to rest his head or keel over. It was a mansion by the standards of Cathalorn with four bedrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, attic, and cellar. While he had seen fancier homes, he'd rather spend a year here than the rest of his life in one of those.

He came in and found a bit of a feast waiting for him. Pork and oranges were on the table with a pitcher of milk in the center. They didn't usually have such great foods, but this was mostly food leftover from Embry's wedding and they needed to get through it before it went bad.

Arlen took a couple of slices of ham and an orange to start with and poured a cup full of milk. As he got his food he noticed something. "Where is everyone else?" he asked.

"Ehren was called away to mediate a little dispute they're having with one of the new houses," his mother replied, serving herself a plate. "Someone vandalized it in the night, it seems." As she sat down she said, "And your guest is still sleeping. Why I'm even allowing his like in Embry's old room is beyond me."

"He was a sure and steadfast companion through many adventures," Arlen replied. "The least I can do is offer him a place to rest until he figures on how he'll reclaim whatever business he had before he left."

"He had none," she told him. "His wife, Fayre, worked as a healer. He did nothing though, and has no trade to go back to."

"But surely he worked before he married her?"

"He was a lumberjack until a tree he felled fell on him and broke his back. Fayre did her best, but he could never lift heavy stuff again, an essential part of lumberjacking." That certainly explained why he would never carry as much as the others. "I don't know why, but I think she pitied him in that way, and that's why she married below her station."

Arlen understood what she meant. A tradesman—or woman—was expected to marry one who was from a family of a similarly respectable trade; farmers married the daughters of farmers; carvers married the daughters of cobblers; the high ranking folks married others of high ranking families. In all that, a healer and a lumberjack were not equals in the slightest, rather on completely different ends of the list.

Though Arlen could see through that, saying, "There have been exceptions, Mom. Class doesn't dictate everything, remember?"

"Perhaps, but your father and I followed it and that's good enough for me."

They continued through the meal with little conversation. The ham was good, and seasoned with spices he didn't know the names of. Sometimes it was good to have a trader as a brother—brother after a fashion anyway. Once he was done he was quite satisfied.

After his mother finished her breakfast she stood up and said, "Now, Arlen, I'm going to whip you into shape like I did for your father when he came back from the war. You're going to be a man worthy of your father's blood when I done with you."

Arlen leaned back in his chair and asked, "And how are you going to do that?"

"By going on an adventure of our own," she said. "We're going to Ceunon."


	2. The Tower of the Dragon Riders

**The feint of heart might want to skip this note and head straight for the chapter.**

 **For those who don't know, there was a review posted on the last chapter that preached the Gospel (maybe a little fire and brimstone added in, which I didn't think was necessary). It was passionately worded, even if it needed a grammar check. While I implore you to seek out God, I'd really like it if no one would post a review on any story that didn't have anything to do with the story itself. I am not trying to put you down, and I do believe we as Christian brothers should support one another, but you made a review on a story that had nothing to do with the story. I did to that review what I would do with any review that was off topic like that; I deleted it. As much as I think you should spread the Gospel (and listen to it when you're ready), I think we need to calm down and talk person to person about this sort of thing, not get on a soapbox and preach to the masses, guilting them to church on Sunday morning. Make friends, tell them about Christ, or show them part of the love that He gave you. Don't preach hate, but compassion. Help people through their struggles, don't beat them away when they come to you with them. Whatever you do, don't become what the Devil wants people to think Christians are; teachers that rap a ruler on their student's knuckles for getting out of line. Anyway, I thought people should know why I did it and why I will delete any review that's off topic.**

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Lynde was getting impatient. She had been on this barge going down the river for nearly a week now and she still hadn't caught sight of the Tower of the Dragon Riders or whatever they called it. It was just thick forest on either side of the river, sometimes with a distinct shore and sometimes not. She was going there to learn, but so far she'd just gotten bug bites and bored.

Artsanna did have some advice though. _Be grateful that it is boring after all that has happened,_ she said. _No one is chasing us or trying to kill us. There is no war to be fought or danger to overcome. Be glad it is boring or else it might become too interesting for you._

Lynde sighed and looked at her silver-scaled companion. She was curled up in one of the barge's holds, which was open to the air and large enough for Artsanna and another Dragon like her to be in at the same time. _That doesn't make me any less bored._

 _Then be patient and adventure will be right around the corner_ , Artsanna said, stirring slightly.

Lynde shook her head. If she calmed for an instant, she'd think of the mistakes she'd made, and that would simply not do. All of the mistakes she'd made and carnage she'd caused was enough without having to relive it every time she sat down. If only she could rewrite the past.

Suddenly Artsanna raised her head and looked around. There was something that roused her, and that something couldn't be good. "What is it?" she asked.

Suddenly there was a shadow over the barge and as Lynde looked up she saw a massive Dragon with magnificent purple scales. It had large wings and a head like Artsanna. But curious of all, it had no saddle or Rider. She could feel Artsanna trying to talk to it, but all she got were images and emotions. As the Dragon flew to them they discover that he—and it was a he—was larger than the entire barge!

As the Dragon glided next to them Artsanna said to Lynde, _He is a wild Dragon, Lynde; he has no Rider or bond!_ She sounded excited. _We have arrived, Lynde, to the land of the Dragons!_

The purple Dragon roared, which almost seemed like a response. Lynde looked to the sky to see a great many Dragons flying up from the ground. She could not count them all, and many of them had a unique scale color to the others. Even the purple one that they were beside was not the same shade of purple as the one she had seen on a different purple Dragon sometime before. She had never seen so many Dragons in one place before.

Artsanna sat up, extremely excited. _These are my people!_ she said.

Lynde decided to climb into the silver Dragon's saddle as she said, _Then let's join your people._

Artsanna took off and flew up to join them. The wind from their wings was strong and it blew her hair around more than the mightiest wind she'd ever encountered. The light reflected off of all their scales was almost blinding to her, especially since most of the Dragons' scales were gemlike unlike the metallic scales of Artsanna. It was amazing up there.

That's when she saw it. It was a fortress atop a hill with a flat top and sheer cliffs on all sides—she once saw something like this hill and Rose called it a mesa. About it were several Dragons, these with saddles and Riders. Lynde pointed it out to Artsanna and they began to make for what had to be the Tower of the Dragon Riders.

As they approached another Rider atop a Dragon came up to them. This Dragon had golden scales that were a shade so light they were almost white. The Rider was also notable, having long black hair with a white stripe running through the middle. Long hair for a man that is, though he could have been an Elf. The Rider signaled for her and Artsanna to follow him, so they did.

They followed him to the mesa where they could see it a lot better. Along the mesa wall was a lot of foliage, and a series of ropes connected to a large wooden platform on the ground that she wondered what was for. Around the edge of the mesa's top was a stone wall with no gate other than one near where the ropes went down to the wooden platform. The wall was lined with several towers where saddled Dragons perched on the tops of them, and there were alcoves of various sizes along the huge towers that Dragons could be seen resting in. It paled in comparison to what was inside though.

Inside the walls were several stone buildings along with a grassy courtyard in the middle. She didn't know what went on in the buildings, but the doors to all of them were huge and they must have used several trees to make just one door! In the middle, of course, was the massive tower with a perch at the top and large windows along the body that Artsanna could have easily flown in without even needing to fold her wings in. It was as if the place was made for giants, and sensing her observation Artsanna said, _Of course it is; I am one of them!_

Artsanna went in to land in the courtyard, and as she began to dismount she heard a voice call to her in a language she didn't understand. She turned to see a short man with a long black beard and a Rider's sword at his belt which was a little smaller than most of them. She would have guess that it was a Dwarf, but he was five feet tall and Rose had said that Dwarves were much shorter than that. When he called again she understood him this time. "Oy! What are you doing landing in the courtyard?" he said.

Lynde shrugged. "I wouldn't think it was that big a deal," she said.

The Rider—she was unprepared to call him anything else for now—before her scoffed and said, "Even Ivuldr knows not to do that, and he's one of those thick-skulled Elves." Looking between them he said, "I'll let it pass, all things considered, but don't do it again unless it's an emergency. It can blow up a lot of wind; so much it could knock a man down. That's your first lesson and it won't be your last."

He crossed his arms and said, "I'm Hvirag the Giant." Lynde almost laughed at the name. Hvirag scoffed at her amusement and said, "I am a Dwarf, but I'm from a very long line of tall Dwarves and I'm unusually tall for one. I should be a full—as you would say—foot shorter than I am. Don't laugh though; I'm your teacher, Lynde."

Lynde grew wide eyed. "You're my teacher?"

"Aye," Hvirag said. "Eragon chose me and Ragni to train you and Artsanna specifically. He thought that someone who had such experience as yours could only learn from one of the Elder pairs of the Order, and we were the only pair that was suitable. Eragon was too busy, Alaric has been hunting you so long that you might have trouble taking orders from him, and Kaesdir never takes apprentices who aren't Elves for some reason. That's why I'm teaching you, Lynde, and not one of them."

That explained that, but now she had a different question. "How do you know who we are?"

Hvirag laughed. "Every Rider knows about you and the silver Dragon! You were a rogue and we had to keep our eyes out for you. You're very distinctive."

Lynde was somewhat satisfied with those answers, though Artsanna had another question. _Who is Ragni?_

Hvirag pointed and both Lynde and Artsanna looked to where he pointed. A large Dragon with dark, almost murky blue scales was climbing down. She—according to Artsanna it was a she—had a lot of webbing between her paws and in the space between her legs and body, as well around several other places, almost like a fish. When she came to the ground with a thud she walked over to them. She held her snout high until she came up to them, at which point she lowered it down to them. She said with a light and strong voice, _I am Ragni._

Lynde was in awe and fear at the sight of the massive Dragon. She'd seen such large Dragons before, but this one seemed different. She about as big as Magnora but seemed gentle and slow. Her voice put Lynde at ease, and she even smelled nice—like water flowers. Hvirag patted Ragni's snout and said, "I've seen that look before, and I tell you that she's a beauty. I've seen gems that seem dull compared to her."

 _Oh really, Hvirag,_ Ragni said. _Flattery is as welcome as it ever was._

"Then it is very welcome, I take it," Hvirag laughed. "She and I were part of the original four pairs, the First Four we were called, that Eragon and Saphira trained."

 _But you only mentioned two other Rider pairs,_ Artsanna pointed out. _So far we have only heard of Alaric and Kaesdir along with their Dragons as being among the original. Where is the last pair?_

Hvirag frowned and said, "That is a story for another time. For now you should go to the dormitories." He shouted something and the Elf—for he truly was an Elf—with black hair with a white stripe down the middle from before appeared. He looked rather unhappy. "Ivuldr will show you to your room. You should get some rest as training starts tomorrow."

Lynde nodded and the Elf apparently named Ivuldr gestured for them to follow him. He took them into one of the large stone buildings, which Artsanna was able to enter without much difficulty. Inside was a large chamber with several doors along the walls. Some were open and some were closed, but they were all massive enough for a Dragon to pass through. They went to one of the doors, which had something painted on the side of it with Lynde's own name being the only thing she recognized. "This is your room," Ivuldr said as he handed her a key. "If you want to know where mine is, too bad. I don't associate with Humans like you so don't try."

Lynde decided to ignore him and go into her room. She tried pushing the door open but that didn't work. She noticed a lock on the door and she put the key in that, soon unlocking it. She could then open it, but it was very heavy and took a lot of effort. Artsanna pushed a little and Lynde fell over as a result of the door swinging open. "Showoff," she muttered as she got up.

As she looked around she found it quite interesting. The room was huge, big enough for Artsanna to walk around in it, and had a window that she'd have a little trouble getting through. The room had a bed, a wardrobe, a couple of rooms off to the side, and a changing screen. It was like the rooms she had in Surda but without the parlor. She actually like this more than Surda because the coldness of the stone somewhat reminded her of her home in Cathalorn, but not too much.

As they were admiring the room a small Dragon attacked Artsanna, startling both of them. It was tiny, close to the size Artsanna was at one month, and a very dark red. Artsanna was more annoyed than threatened by the little thing.

"Yeah he's a spitfire alright," a woman's voice said behind Lynde. She turned around to see a frightening sight.

Ivuldr had disappeared and in his place was a young woman. She had dark red hair, alabaster skin, and black eyes. Lynde drew her sword and shouted, "Shade!"

Artsanna whipped around ready to fight when both she and Lynde saw the woman put her hands up and turn her face. Strangely enough, she had a gedwëy ignasia on her right cheek, marking her as a Rider. "I'm not a Shade," she said. "I may look vaguely like one, but I'm not. If I was an actual Shade, everyone here would be dead."

Lynde sheathed her sword and said, "I'm sorry. I've just run into a lot of Shades."

"I can guess," the woman said, looking and both Lynde and Artsanna. She then put her hand out and said, "I'm Jeneve."

Lynde shook her outstretched hand. "I'm Lynde, but I'm guessing you already know that."

"Yeah, the Dragon was a dead giveaway." She then withdrew her hand and clapped twice. The little Dragon stopped attacking Artsanna and looked to Jeneve. "Come on, Shadow." The Dragon then flew into Jeneve's arms and she put the Dragon down saying, "You're getting heavy, Shadow. I don't think I'll be able to carry you anymore."

 _His name is Shadow?_ Artsanna asked.

"Well I had to name him something until he chooses his own name, and I could only think of Shadow," Jeneve replied. "As soon as he can think intelligently he'll name himself, but he gets into so much trouble I have to call him something for now."

Lynde chuckled. "You seem to handle him well though."

"Now I do." Jeneve pointed to the gedwëy ignasia on her cheek. "How do you think I got that?" Lynde worked through it with Artsanna and came to an interesting conclusion. "He had a very exciting hatching, let's just say that." Jeneve smiled and said, "Welcome to the Tower of the Dragons, Lynde and Artsanna."

"Thank you," Lynde said.

 _Thank you,_ Artsanna repeated.

"You're both welcome," Jeneve replied. "Now I've got to get to my lessons. See you around the academy. Goodbye."

As Jeneve ran off Lynde turned to Artsanna. "Well she was nice," she said.

 _Undoubtedly._


	3. Across the Sea

Arlen and his mother had boarded the ferry to Ceunon soon after breakfast. It wasn't that long a walk from Cathalorn to the ferry dock, only about half an hour if you maintained a good walking speed. Once they arrived they paid the ferryman they were off. It would take a long time to arrive in Ceunon though so they settled in for the long wait.

This ferry was similar to one he'd encountered on a previous adventure only much larger. It was square raft wider than two houses, with a small cabin in the middle of it. The cabin was for the ferryman and possibly for a couple of passengers if it should rain. Arlen and his mother sat outside, leaning against the outside of the cabin in almost silence.

It was about an hour until midday when a conversation was struck up and it made Arlen uncomfortable. "I know this isn't a conversation you want, but it's necessary," his mother said. "You need to find a wife."

Arlen sighed apprehensively. He didn't want to talk about this, but it wasn't as if he had a choice. "Do I really?" he asked.

"Well in my experience, it's best to do these things sooner than later," she replied. "Well, that is, if you want to have several children. Your father and I married a little late so you were all kinda close together. It took a toll on me and you youngsters. Fortunately we had Fayre so we were fine, but now…"

"I don't know if I want children," Arlen said. "I don't know if I want to marry. I don't know anything about this. What I really want to know is why we're going to Ceunon!"

His mother looked puzzled as she said, "I didn't tell you?"

"No!"

"Must have slipped my mind." Arlen groaned at that. "Well we're going to Ceunon because Berthold sent Ehren a summons. Of course he couldn't come so you and I are going in his stead."

Arlen remembered Berthold. He was a friend of Arlen's father—Dryden—and helped found the village guard in Cathalorn. Eventually the lord of Ceunon asked both of them if either of them would like to come to and command the guard of the city. Berthold chose to leave, taking him and his family with him, which Arlen was grateful that his father didn't do—he couldn't imagine leaving his home for another at such a young age. Berthold kept in touch with Arlen's father, but this was perhaps the first time in time in ten years that he would see him again. Arlen wondered what was so important.

"Was there any reason given for the summons?" Arlen asked.

"None, but it was urgent. He said to come as soon as possible." Arlen nodded. His father often described Berthold as a man of few words and was slow to haste. While he could have changed in ten years—people tend to do that—this seemed an unlikely change for a man like him. He wondered what could cause him to do this.

"What do you think it is?" Arlen asked.

"I don't know," his mother replied. "I didn't know him as well as your father did. I don't know what could drive him to this, but we'll find out when we get there."

"I guess so."

After a few moments of silence his mother said. "Do you remember Berthold's daughter—Ariane? I wonder if she ever married."

"Oh hush!"

After a day on the ferry they came to the ferry dock on the other side of the North Sea. It was strange to the ferryman that the weather had been so calm, but it was summer so it was not unheard of. After that Arlen and his mother walked a seldom used road to the city of Ceunon.

As he came into the city he was surprised—to say the least—with the city. While he had seen things from it proving the city's existence, and heard stories from his father about it, he had never imagined it would be this grand. The houses had ornate carvings, possibly done by people with too much time and resources on their hands or by people with great dedication—though the two weren't mutually exclusive. Guardsmen with hardened leather armor and spears a foot longer than their bearers were tall walked the streets, occasionally stopping to talk with a normal citizen for a time. It was what Cathalorn could be if it had a wall around it, but Ehren had shelved that for now.

Arlen had actually never been to Ceunon before, despite it and Cathalorn having an agreeable relationship in the past. He supposed it was because he never had a need or want to go there. It was his loss since it seemed nice enough to live in.

Arlen was about to ask one of the guardsmen where Berthold was when the question was prematurely answer. Berthold himself came out from under a shopkeeper's awning. It had been some time since Arlen had seen Berthold, but since the man was at their house often enough he knew what he looked like. He was much older now, having gray in his beard. But age had not stopped him from carrying a sword at his belt, though this one had a purple gem set in the pommel. He had a smile on his face as he said, "Welcome to Ceunon, Emera and Arlen! Welcome!"

Arlen was puzzled. "How'd you know it was me and not Ehren?" he asked. "You were expecting Ehren, right?"

"Oh, you two look nothing alike," his mother said. "You got your father's looks while Ehren got mine."

Berthold chuckled. "Same attitude, huh, Emera?"

"You expected that to be the thing that changed?" his mother said. "While my hair may go gray and my face wrinkle, I'm still a woman of Cathalorn in name and heritage."

"That you are," Berthold said as he patted her on the shoulder. He then looked to Arlen and said, "What are you speechless?"

"No, I'm just wondering why you called us here," Arlen said. While Berthold had gotten a bit more gab living in Ceunon, he still hadn't told them why they were there.

Berthold's face turned grave as he said, "We should be inside for this talk." He led them to his house where no one seemed to be home. Arlen wondered why it was empty, but he could ask that question later. Berthold then sat them down and explained. "Do you know about the Great Hunt, Arlen?"

Arlen shook his head, but was surprised to see a spark of recognition in his mother's eyes. He felt a little left out as he asked, "What is the Great Hunt?"

"First a little history lesson," Berthold said. "During Galbatorix's reign he employed creatures called Ra'zac. They were tough beasts, stronger than any man, and extremely hard to kill. Worst of all was their taste for Human flesh. These were terrible creatures reserved for specific enemies to the crown.

"The thing is, there weren't too many around during Galbatorix's reign, but about five years after they started popping up everywhere. I don't know the exactness of it all, but there were quite a few places where the Ra'zac seemed to have come from. In order to destroy them all the Dragon Riders alongside many others hunted down and killed every Ra'zac they found, thus was the Great Hunt. We thought that to be the end of them."

"But?" Arlen's mother asked.

"But just last week we found another. It was dumb luck how we managed to kill it."

"How exactly?" Arlen asked.

"One of my guardsmen and a fellow who was redoing the shingling of his roof were sitting and talking. The Raz'ac was on the roof and slipped on the shingles. It then slid down the roof and impaled itself on the guardsman's spear, which was propped up against the side of the house. It was still alive though, so after identifying it—as the guardsman had been a part of the Great Hunt—he called in more of his fellow guardsman and killed it." Berthold chuckled a little. "Talk about dumb luck."

Arlen laughed a little while his mother frowned. "You wouldn't call here because of a bad joke, Berthold. What's going on?"

Berthold sighed heavily before saying, "We tracked down the nest this was from and the remains of two Ra'zac eggs. We searched high and low for the other Ra'zac and no one has found it yet. It could be going over to Palancar valley or to Cathalorn, so I thought I should warn you."

"Do the Riders know?" his mother asked.

"I told the lord of the city and he may pass it on to whoever he wishes. He has asked that we keep it quiet though. I was only allowed to tell you since you'll be able to do something about it. I'd suggest not telling more people than need know about this, to prevent panic."

Arlen nodded but his mother was a little different. "I will stay quiet in your city, but when in Cathalorn I will make sure that everyone knows of this. We are used to dealing with monsters like this, and ignorance will only weaken us."

Berthold nodded. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Emera."

As much confidence as she showed, Arlen was more fearful that his mother. This creature sounded terrible, and he hoped not to face it. His skill had not been the same since returning to Cathalorn, and this was a creature that ate Humans flesh. He was afraid of them and hoped that it would steer clear of him as he did not want his fears to be discovered wise or foolish.


	4. Tests

Lynde arrived in front of the Tower at exactly the hour that Hvirag told her to be along with Artsanna. She had her sword, which she had chosen to name Shield Breaker after what happened in Petrøvya. She checked the sword, seeing if the blade was sharp—which it was. She was nervous. Her training had yet to begin so she was impatient to know what it would be.

Soon enough Hvirag arrived flanked by two others. There was the Elf Ivuldr, who was smiling for some reason—entirely the opposite of his interactions with her the other day. The other was a giant Urgal, a Kull she believed he was, with a yellow-orange sword on his shoulder longer than Hvirag was tall. He also wore clothing more like a Human's than an Urgal's; a green vest with a shirt, trousers, and boots. The three of them looked more than a little odd together.

Hvirag spoke first. "Lynde, I'd like you to meet some people who will help train you. You've met Ivuldr, but you have not met his teacher: Razrok."

"Hello," Razrok said in a deep Urgal voice.

"Hello," Lynde replied. Looking around she asked, "Aren't you going to train me?"

"Yes I will, but Razrok has allowed me to have Ivuldr—his student—train with you in sword combat." Lynde was a little confused by that. Ivuldr was an Elf and that meant he had hundreds or thousands of years to have trained better at swordplay than she ever could be. He was also much stronger and faster than her, being an Elf, so he had the advantage there. Unless he was a younger Elf this would be entirely one-sided.

She was about to complain when Razrok said, "Don't worry about Ivuldr; he's hopelessly bad with a sword."

"Compared to other Elves," Ivuldr countered, still cheery somehow. "I should fare much better against a Human."

"We'll see," Razrok said.

Lynde looked to Hvirag when he cleared his throat. "Now, Lynde," she said, "we have a lot of lessons to cover, but there is something we should get out of the way first."

"Alright, what is it?" she said as she nodded.

"I need to know what lessons need to be taught. I need to know what you have learned already so that I don't waste time covering something you already know. Now what are your strengths?"

For Lynde that was a short list. She could sew alright, but that was irrelevant to riding a Dragon. She knew how to wield a sword and some basic spells. She could write her own name but little else. As she listed them to Hvirag she realized that she had almost no skills that were worthy of being mentioned to Hvirag.

Razrok laughed. "It sounds like you really do need Hvirag teaching you," the Kull said. That didn't make Lynde feel better at all, making her feel worse instead.

"Razrok, how would you like to see from a Dwarf's perspective?" Hvirag asked.

"And how would that be done?" Razrok asked.

"Oh maybe by chopping your legs off or something like that." Razrok scoffed and tightened his grip on his sword. Looking back to Lynde, Hvirag said, "Let's get started, but first Artsanna is going to have to go with Ragni for her testing."

While Lynde was hesitant to leave Artsanna's company, she was comforted somewhat by the silver Dragon's words. _I will be with you in mind if not body. If you ever need me, just ask._

Once Lynde was ready Hvirag motioned for her to follow him and they went to one of the nearby buildings. Artsanna took off behind them and flew up to meet with Ragni in the sky. The building Lynde and the others went to was not as large as the dormitory—as she had learned it was called—that she spent last night in, but it was certainly big. Big enough for Artsanna to come in and have plenty of room to move about. There were seats along the walls, and it seemed that the building was just one big room with nothing but the seats in it. Lynde wondered what this place was but figured that she'd get the answer to that soon.

"This room is where we Dragon Riders spar and learn the arts of the sword," Hvirag said. "It's here that we will test your skill with a blade." He motioned for her and Ivuldr to go to the center of the room, which Lynde chose to obey. Once there they took places about ten paces away from each other and drew their swords.

Ivuldr's sword was long and thin and seemed to curve after a certain point. It was a similar pale gold to his Dragon, which Lynde found somewhat interesting—evidentially all Rider swords were colored to fit the color of their Dragon. Ivuldr held it up and said, "This is Garjzla, which means light, and it is a fine blade. It is far better than yours, at least."

Lynde looked at her own sword. It was a heavy steel sword that she and Rose had made with magic. Rose had packed the steel closer somehow, making it more durable but also heavier. When she first held it she could barely lift it, but she had become much stronger since then—though it was still very heavy in her hands. "This is Shield Breaker," she replied. "And it's a match for your sword any day."

Ivuldr chuckled. "We will see about that." He then spoke a spell of some kind over his sword.  
She wondered about the spell and asked him, "What's that for?"

After he finished he said, "This is a spell to prevent from getting seriously hurt. It may harm bones, but it will not damage the flesh. Allow me to put the spell on your sword."

"No you won't," Hvirag said, inserting himself between the two. "I'll do it." He then took Lynde's sword and spoke a spell with similar words to Ivuldr's, but with fewer words. When he was done he handed it back and said, "There you go."

"Thanks," she said.

Hvirag then went to the seats along the edge of the room where Razrok stood—the seats were too low for him. Hvirag then cleared his throat and said before he sat down, "Go ahead, knock each other out."

Ivuldr moved first, charging Lynde. She decided swing at him instead of blocking as then he—with considerably greater strength—would have to block. He blocked in time and Lynde pulled back her sword to lunge at him. He was faster though and danced out of the way to the side. He then leapt past her, and while she swung her sword in a wide arc that was sure to hit him if he was there, he wasn't and struck her in the side.

The pain was considerable as he had hit bone. In a brief moment she felt terror. She thought she was going to die here, far from home, with no loved ones around her. She fell to the ground, grasping her side, when Artsanna's voice came into her mind. _You are being melodramatic._ Lynde looked to her side and she realized there was no blood or mortal wound to behold. The spell had worked in protecting her, but she still felt the pain.

She groaned, disappointed in herself. It wasn't for losing since she was fighting an Elf. She was more disappointed that she had been fooled by no one but herself. She was dumb enough to think she had actually been harmed and that she was going to die when she really wasn't. She wished she'd had the sense to realize that before she made a spectacle of herself.

As she got up Hvirag, who was still in his seat, asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, apparently," Lynde said as she got up.

"You're not the only one who has had trouble with this spell," Hvirag said. "Most Humans, due to their inexperience with magic of this sort, have trouble with this. Urgals too, but Elves and Dwarves, who have magicians available to most, usually know about the spell beforehand if not had the experience of it firsthand."

"Well," she said as she got up, "I want a rematch."

"No," Hvirag said calmly. "Not today. Tomorrow you can fight all you want but today is about seeing your strengths and weaknesses. I think swordplay may be a strength of yours, but you could be better. Let's see how you do in the other tests."

After Razrok and Ivuldr left, Hvirag put Lynde through a series of tests. Some were possible situations that she could be in some day to test either her problem-solving skills or morality or both. Other tests were measuring her skill with magic was tested, some of which she did well and others she failed. Her physical strength was also tested, which she did a little better at than most of the other tests. By the end she hoped Hvirag had a good gage of her skills because she was exhausted.

They hadn't left the dueling room in all their tests, except to eat, and when they had eaten they went back for more tests. It was evening when they were done and Hvirag let her go. "You should get plenty of rest tonight so that you're ready for tomorrow," he said. "Oh by the way, about your reading: I won't be teaching you that, since you'll be reading Human words and not Dwarvish."

"What's the difference?" Lynde asked.

Hvirag seemed happy enough to explain "While they use the same letters, they use a few different sounds. I might be able to read your language but I'd rather have you learn it from someone who was raised with it. I'll see who I can get, but don't be too hopeful."

Lynde nodded. She hadn't seen a lot of Humans here. To think of it she hadn't seen many people here in general. She wondered if it was always so empty or something was going on. Just about the only other Human she'd seen was Jeneve, the woman who looked like a Shade. She wondered if it would be Jeneve to teach her how to read or someone else. "For now go, get a bite to eat, and rest," Hvirag said.

"Alright," Lynde replied. "I'll see you tomorrow then." As Lynde left she encountered Artsanna standing outside the dueling room. She was tired and her scales were dirty. Worst of all she had some wounds on her that looked nasty. Immediately Lynde was concerned for her and said, "What happened, Artsanna?"

 _Rangi had heard that I had fought Dragons before and wanted me to fight her as a test,_ Artsanna said. _I do not know if I passed or failed nor do I care. That skill was developed out of necessity, and I wish to forget it as soon as possible. I wish that I had never come to this place._

Lynde was highly confused by that. "It was your choice to do it," she said.

 _I know, but I did not know it would be like this. After so long being an enemy of Riders and Dragons, can I truly be a friend?_

Lynde sighed heavily. Artsanna had voiced a small fear of Lynde's: rejection by the Riders. They had hidden from the Riders for many months, even fighting them on numerous occasions. Could they ever be accepted as friends by those they fought to be free of? "I hope so," Lynde said, trying to comfort her friend.

They went back to the dormitory where Lynde decided she would heal Artsanna wounds. If they inflicted them, she didn't want them healing her. They were just settling down when there was a knock at the door.

Lynde went to the door to find Jeneve behind it with a man next to her. The man was tall northern looking fellow who had quite a few years behind him. He wore a scarf that didn't look very warm, but it was summer so she could understand why he didn't wear a warmer one even if she had no idea why he wore it in the first place. He and Jeneve looked rather concerned. "Artsanna's hurt?" Jeneve asked.

"Yes and I was just about to heal her," Lynde replied.

"Well let me help you," Jeneve said. "I'm well versed in healing magic."

Lynde considered this. Her offer seemed genuine and their concern just as much. She wasn't that great with healing magic anyway, so she'd let Jeneve help. She did have one question though. "Who are you?" she asked the man.

"His name is Einer," Jeneve said. "He can't speak; his throat was damaged during the war."

 _I can talk with my mind, though,_ a man's voice spoke to Lynde's mind, which she assumed was Einer's.  
"Well come in," Lynde said. "I think both Artsanna and I could use your help."

It wasn't long before Jeneve was over to Artsanna, looking over her with careful eyes. She began to speak a simple spell that even Lynde could understand, though its effects were more than she could have anticipated. Artsanna's wounds healed one at a time, and Jeneve even asked her for use of her energy, which she agreed to. After that it wasn't long before she was completely healed. "There," Jeneve said. "Good as new."

 _Thank you,_ Artsanna said.

"Yes, thank you," Lynde added. "Though I have to ask, how are you so good with magic?"

Jeneve frowned, though it was more like it was bringing up painful memories than anger at the question itself. "Unlike many Riders, I was born with magic. Though before anyone knew, my parents left me thinking I was a cursed child of some sort, looking the way I do. I was eventually 'adopted' by the Queen's Magicians and trained as one of them. Eventually while guarding a Dragon egg it hatched for me. There were a few of us there, so we wondered whose he was until he jumped on me and wouldn't let go." She chuckled. "Less than a month later, here I am."

Lynde was amazed and outraged at Jeneve's story. Adopting an orphan girl seemed to be an act of kindness, but it was only a recruitment method for them. She had no choice in the matter of whether or not she became a Magician; to fight for a cause she did not believe in or support. Lynde now decided she had a bit in common with Jeneve and that she might be able to trust her.

She wanted to trust Jeneve, but she knew that trust could not be given but earned. Of course, after what she had done for Artsanna, Lynde decided that she might be trusted or perhaps even befriended. These people—Jeneve and Einer—had lost things for no fault of their own, and that was what made the three of them alike. She hoped this would be the start of a great friendship.


	5. Learning Little

It was the morning after the tests and Lynde was beginning her training. The first thing up was sparring with Ivuldr in the dueling room. While Lynde was hesitant to fight the Elf again, she would do it if only to wipe his smug smile off his face. They took their positions in preparation of their duel when Ivuldr said, "Is your sword too heavy for you?"

In fact, her sword was feeling heavier than normal today. She figured it was just her body being tired after so much exertion the previous day. But she wouldn't let him know that, so instead she said, "Heavy enough to break your Elven bones."

"Oy!" Hvirag called from his seat beside Razrok the Kull. "Don't break each other's bones on purpose. If it's an accident, it's okay." Lynde wondered what he thought about the fight between Artsanna and Ragni yesterday—whether he approved of it or not. She would not ask him though as she didn't want to be corrected if it was alright with him.

Lynde turned back to her opponent. In his arrogance he asked, "Would you like to make the first move?"

Lynde grinned and said, "Yes." She lunged with little warning to Ivuldr. He parried the blow, but it was very close and very difficult for him to defend against. She then raised her sword and brought it down in a mighty arc upon Ivuldr's head. He blocked it with his sword and great Elven strength. Lynde then drew her sword back and lunged again to try to catch him with his sword up. He dodged out of the way and swung at her wrist. She then felt great pain and let go of her sword in favor of her wrist. "Ow!" she said.

Ivuldr laughed cruelly. "Too slow, Human," he said, taunting her.

"Your sword's weighing you down!" Razrok shouted. "How about you try this one?" Razrok then tossed his sword over to her, which both she and Ivuldr ran to avoid. After it landed with a thud she returned to the blade with curiosity.

The long, thick, yellow-orange sword was clearly not meant for a Human to wield but as she picked it up she found that it was about as easy as holding her own sword. The metal seemed much lighter than her sword's at least, but the amount of it made heavier than her sword. The weight was distributed evenly and was well sharpened except for an area near the hilt. The hilt was made for larger hands though so she didn't know if she could use it with her hands only wrapped partially around it. "Go on," Razrok encouraged. "Hit him a few times with it!"

Lynde turned and used all her might to swing the sword at Ivuldr. He tried to dodge by stepping out of the way, but the sword was so long that he was hit despite that. He flipped and fell down. "Ho, ho, that's giving it to him!" Hvirag said.

As Ivuldr got up him said crossly, "That… hurt." He raised his sword and said, "Let's see if you can do that again."

For the next hour or so they fought and Lynde used Razrok's sword through all of it. The longer reach helped her keep Ivuldr at bay, but the weight slower her a bit more. She also lost her grip on the oversized hilt more than once, giving Ivuldr an easy advantage. By the end they had fought many duels and were about even in victories and defeats.

"Alright," Hvirag said. "We'll do more of this tomorrow. For now let's get on with the other lessons." Lynde was thankful for that just as much as she was exhausted.

Lynde returned Razrok's to him sword hesitantly. She had gotten used to it and its length, though she had to remember that it was not hers. Perhaps she could get a sword as good as that one, but maybe not.

As she went to get her own sword she found a woman looking it over. She had pointed ears like an Elf, but her face looked older than any other Elf Lynde had seen. She had a disapproving look as she examined the sword. As Lynde neared, the woman asked without looking at her, "Who made this sword?"

"Me and my old teacher Rose," Lynde replied. "We made it to be tough."

"You made it awfully," the woman said plainly.

Lynde was enraged. "How?"

"It lacks several important features of an actual sword, it's far too heavy for its size, and it is too inflexible to be used properly," the woman said. "I would not make something so poor."

"And who are you?"

The woman stood up and met Lynde's eyes. "I am Rhunön the swordsmith for the Dragon Riders." Lynde was surprised as she had never heard of her. While she imagined the swords had to be made by someone, she never knew who it was. All things considered this Elf woman—Rhunön, as she called herself—seemed like she was as good as anyone to do this.

Rhunön handed Lynde the sword and said, "You're better off using Razrok's sword than your own for now; this lump of steel won't do you much good." Lynde was too offended to give a reply and Rhunön wasn't going to wait for one. The Elf turned and began leave saying, "Goodbye."

Lynde sheathed her sword as Hvirag approached her. "Come on, Lynde," he said. "It's time for your reading and writing lesson."

Lynde was interested. She remembered him saying that she was going to need a special teacher for writing than anyone else and she wondered who it might be. "Who is it?" she asked.

"She should be here soon enough to tell you herself," Hvirag said. He had a sudden look of recognition and pointed behind her. "Ah, here she is now." Lynde looked behind her and found Jeneve standing there. Once again she thought the red haired woman was a Shade and was startled, but got over it quickly. "Jeneve is a master of letters, so she should be able to teach you."

"I've never had a student before, but if you're willing to learn I'm willing to teach," Jeneve said confidently.

"I'm willing," Lynde said. What she didn't add was "especially since it's you" because she didn't want to be too forward in trying to form a friendship. She'd forced friendships on others before and it rarely ended well.

"Good," Hvirag said. "Why don't you get started? I've got some things to do in the Tower—Elder work, you know." Lynde really didn't know but she wouldn't ask either. He said a farewell and headed out.

Lynde and Jeneve headed out as well, going to the library in the Tower. There Jeneve began to teach Lynde the basics—letters, as she called them, and what sounds they made. Lynde didn't progress much, as Jeneve admitted, by the end of the lesson, which was marked by Hvirag coming to give her a different lesson, this one about magic.

By the end of the day Lynde had learned little and was extremely tired. Artsanna was tired too, though at least she absorbed some more of the lessons that she was given. But here, at the end of the day, Lynde thought that she was done. She wasn't. Hvirag said to her words that she would always hate and dread. "So what did the two of you learn today?"

Lynde started. "I learned that I'm better with an Urgal sword than a Human sword."

"No, no, Lynde," Hvirag said. "It's a part of your lessons that each of you should know what the other is learning, so I ask you what Artsanna learned just as Ragni would ask Artsanna what you learned."

Lynde hadn't been doing that with Artsanna. Artsanna was very fearful as for once she hadn't been listening to her thoughts, being so swamped with new knowledge that she wasn't bored enough to listen in. Lynde was more aggravated than fearful though. "That's dumb!" she said. "We don't need to know what each other are learning. If we were, then we'd be learning it from our teacher not from each other."

"That's not how it works, Lynde," Hvirag said.

"I don't care! I don't need to know how to fly or breathe fire any more than Artsanna needs to know how to do magic. Neither of us are physically capable of applying the other's lessons, so why should we both be learning them?"

"I don't know," Hvirag said, very irritated. "This was how I was taught, how my fellow Riders were taught, how Eragon was taught, and how the Riders of old were taught. You aren't going to be taught any differently."

"Then I won't be taught!" Lynde said.

Artsanna interceded before anyone else could say another word. _Lynde, you are being childish._ Lynde took great offense to that. _And Hvirag, you should have told us before the lessons started, not after. That is a great excuse for us, which you are currently lacking._

A look of realization crossed his face and he bowed. "I apologize. I hadn't realized the oversight. This evening you're free of it, but you're going to tell us all about each other's lessons tomorrow morning. We won't break tradition for either of you."

 _Indeed,_ Ragni said. _If you don't come back with a clear understanding of what the other has learned, then we will need to learn them all over again. Is that clear?_

Lynde sneered at them and was about to say a nasty thing to both of them when Artsanna spoke up. _We shall do as you ask, but be warned that another slip up and we may be in need of new—more competent—teachers._

As they left for the dormitories Lynde spoke to Artsanna with her mind. _Did you really have to do that?_

 _What I said is better than what you would have said,_ Artsanna explained. _You would have simply berated them with little thought or care to them. I told them to do better in the future, which is all I could do. All criticism should be well thought through and bring up excellent points, not cursing them out and hoping that fixes it—only a child does that._

 _Well maybe,_ Lynde said. _I still think it's dumb._

 _Dumb or not we must adhere to it so that we may be able to actually progress._

When they made it back to their dormitory room they began tell each other what they had each studied. Both had some observations about the other's lessons about one thing or another, and they were each surprised about something that had happened to the other. Artsanna was surprised that Lynde had wielded an Urgal sword, though something more surprising happened to the silver Dragon. _Ragni apologized?_ Lynde said.

 _Yes,_ Artsanna said. _She had not realized it was a sore subject, and apologized for the test.  
Great,_ Lynde said. _Now if only Hvirag could see the error of his ways, this stay might be halfway—what was the word—educational._ Artsanna laughed, but Lynde had been completely serious and now was mystified. Why was she laughing?


	6. Ludger's Tavern

When Arlen returned to Cathalorn he immediately went to Ehren at the town hall. He and his mother informed Ehren on what was going on with the Ra'zac, which he took as well as could be expected and would relay the news to the other village leaders. After that Arlen decided to stop by Ludger's tavern for lunch.

He came in and he had to jump out of the way to avoid a man being physically thrown out. Meanwhile he could hear a chorus of satisfaction from the place. Apparently the man was an unwelcome traveler, and he could guess why. The ones who seemed to have thrown him out were Ludger's sons; the twins Detlef and Gerulf. If they were doing the throwing, the thrown was probably making unwanted advances to one of their sisters. He decided to not ask about it immediately as they were always a little edgy after a fight—or at least Detlef was, being the rasher one.

He went over to the bar and ordered a plate of beef and bread. The twins heard the order and came over to him. "Well look who's here, Gerulf," Detlef said excitedly. "It's Arlen back from Ceunon."

"Welcome back, Arlen," Gerulf said in a friendly manner.

"Hello, Gerulf," Arlen replied. "Same to you, Detlef."

"He was scared you were gone for good," Detlef said gesturing to Gerulf. "Off on another adventure."

"I said that he might be gone for a long while," Gerulf corrected. "I wasn't afraid."

"Well with you two here, Cathalorn—or at least the tavern—should be safe," Arlen said. The two of them were in the guard, though they were very different sorts. Detlef was a bit too rough with others, and was reprimanded on multiple occasions because of it. Gerulf was just the opposite, only fighting when it was necessary or when someone was making unwanted advances on one of his sisters. Despite—or perhaps because of—their differences they could be trusted to defend their home.

Arlen, seeing that they were in a good mood, asked, "So who was he after this time?"

"Leonie," Detlef said.

Arlen was a little confused. "I don't remember one of your sisters being named Leonie."

"Well you wouldn't because she's not our sister," Gerulf explained. "Business is so good that our dad hired on Leonie as a waiter. She does good work, but I think he could use another set of hands for odd jobs now that all our sisters are working the bar."

Thinking back to his guest, he said, "How about Herbst?" The twins looked to each other, shrugged, and then back to Arlen. "He has a keen mind and needs the work."

"You'd have to talk to our dad about that," Gerulf said.

"I think I will," Arlen said. "Where is he?"

"He's in the cellar doing an inventory," Detlef said. "You'd best not disturb him when he's down there; it never ends well if you do."

Arlen frowned. He had great respect for Ludger, but when he was suffering the ill effects of age on the mind faster than most he'd seen. He was becoming forgetful, despite being about as old as Arlen's father or Herbst. He would wait to ask him about this until after the inventory was done.

Gerulf cleared his throat and Arlen looked to him. "Arlen, I'd like to talk to you about something," he said, "alone." Judging from his tone it was important but it could wait a little while. Arlen nodded and Gerulf nodded back and said, "Thank you."

Soon enough Arlen got his lunch and began to catch up with Detlef and Gerulf. They told them what had been going on for the past few days while he was gone, which wasn't much; the vandal was caught, there was a minor dispute between a couple of farmers, and two people went missing—though they were most likely running away to get married, as their romance was well known throughout the village. It was a quiet week, but he preferred the quiet to what it could be.

When he was done eating and the twins were done catching him up, he got up and started to leave. There was a bit of a crowd around but he managed to navigate it just fine. He was almost out when he heard a woman's voice say, "Hey, you didn't pay!"

Arlen turned around to be surprised. The woman was young, had golden blonde hair, and a narrow, round face. She wore clothes he recognized as those of Gerulf and Detlef's sisters, which suggested she was both employed by their father Ludger and that she had no other suitable clothes—or that she stole them. She was not tall or short compared to the women of Cathalorn, and her frame was narrow, but she had strong muscles. She stared at him with stern dark blue eye as she said, "Did ya forget to pay or are you just trying to skip out, eh?"

It took him a second to reply as he had never seen one as beautiful as her. "I am Arlen son of Dryden and I don't know if you know this but…"

"Oh yeah, I know," she said. "You and yer family get free meals in good times; they told me that. It's just that I haven't seen you in here before." She looked him over and scolded herself. "Yeah, should have known from yer clothes: sturdy and worth more than most around here can afford." Arlen was surprised that not only this woman cut off his speech but also that she was observant enough that she was angry about not noticing something that most wouldn't pick up on. "I'm new here, by the way."

"Yeah, I guess you're Leonie," Arlen said.

She smiled. "You're awfully bright."

"Well I don't recognize you and you're wearing the clothes of one of Ludger's daughters—Marlis I think—so it's not that hard to guess," Arlen said perhaps a little too confidently. He sounded arrogant to himself, which really wouldn't do.

She crossed her arms and said, "You know this family pretty well to get their names straight. I only remember Marlis because she's the one I talk to most. Otherwise I get all their names mixed up." She grimaced as she said, "I actually called the youngest Gerulf last night."

Arlen shared her expression and said, "Well Ludger and my father were close friends, so it made sense for us to make friends with each other as well."

She nodded in acknowledgement. "Why else would you get free meals?" She had him there.

He realized that his mother would probably be looking for him soon. Her talk about whipping him into shape probably meant more than just a trip to Ceunon, and the last thing he wanted was for her to come in to find him talking with a barmaid. It was better to find his mother before she found him. "I have to get going, but it was a pleasure," he said, bowing slightly.

"Well thank you," she replied, "but I hope you're not expecting a return that bow; I'm not one for 'em."  
He shrugged. "It's fine." He stepped towards the door and said, "I hope that I see you again someday."  
Leonie smiled. "I think I'd like that."

"As would I," he said. "Farewell."

Once he left the tavern he began to think about Leonie. She seemed smart, if a little unrefined. Actually she was very unrefined, but was still an amiable sort. She was quite beautiful as well, but beauty could fade. She wondered who she was, what drove her, what she hoped to do in the future. In some ways he hoped that she could be with him, but he knew that it was unlikely.

Their classes were entirely different, so a romance would be frowned upon. While he was a respected member of the community and warrior, she waited tables. They were on completely different ends of the list of respectability, and so while they might get away with a short romance, he did not want that or anything like it. If he was to court a woman he intended to marry her until death parted them, not a single passionate night.

Even before courtship he would want to find out more about her. What if he should find out that they were entirely different and unsuitable for each other? What if he discovered she had some darkness or treachery to her that could not be seen after one conversation? He would have to wait to decide anything, and even then there could be some outrage about the two of them.


	7. The Unwelcome

**A shout out to all the viewers who have allowed your countries to surpass the United States currently. At the time of posting these include Australia and the United Kingdom, though previously Serbia and** **Montenegro (collectively since they're counted as one on the site) were the first among them. And a shout out to all my viewers, who are most welcome. Now to what is unwelcome.**

* * *

Arlen went to the training field soon after leaving Ludger's tavern. He supposed that his mother would most likely be waiting for him there rather than anywhere else. As much as he didn't feel like exerting himself after a long trip, he knew that a warrior had to be ready to fight no matter what condition he was in.

He was almost there when he heard a scream. It was that of a woman's, though unlike his mother's enough that he didn't think it was her. It came from a house not far from the training field, so he dashed over there with his hand on his hilt.

When he arrived he found the front door locked, so with careful consideration he kicked the door free of its lock and went through. He found the sight inside quite disturbing. There, above the form of a cowering woman, stood a creature. It was the shape of a human, but had dark scales—or something that looked like scales to Arlen's eyes—covering its entire body except for a beak and black eyes. It was shorter than a man and wore no garment over its scales, though that did not make Arlen fear it any less. What he had found was a creature that, if his fears were true, was a Ra'zac.

He drew his sword and lunged at the Ra'zac. It pounced on him before he got to it, knocking him to the floor. The force of both the pounce and the impact with the floor sent wave of pain through him, and would probably bruise later—if there was a later. The Ra'zac raised its hand to claw at him, so he took the opportunity to give it a punch to the face, more specifically the eye. It reeled away from him, clutching its eye.

He rolled away into a crouch, prepared to defend himself. He wouldn't make the mistake of attacking it again, instead he would wait for it to attack and then run it through. It could work, if only it would attack him and not the woman it had been attacking in the first place.

He looked to the Ra'zac, still getting over the pain of its eye, and looked to the woman. He decided to slowly move towards her, keeping his sword and eyes pointed to the Ra'zac at all times to prevent it getting the better of him. He was about halfway there when the Ra'zac turned to him, half hissing and half screaming, and jumped him again.

He panicked and instead of going doing as he planned he ducked out the way, slashing the Ra'zac along the chest in the process. It crumbled to the ground, grasping its wound and hissing in a way that sounded like moaning. It began to bleed out bluish green blood, leading Arlen to believe that it was safe to approach and finish off.

As he stood above the Ra'zac he raised his sword, ready to end the Great Hunt, but the monster at his feet wasn't. It grabbed his sword and pulled it out of his hands with Elf-like strength. It threw the sword through the window, shattering the glass. The Ra'zac then tackled him to the ground, which he fought but was too weak to overcome.

As it stood over him a second time he got the feeling he was not going to rise again. He was tired, unarmed, and in pain. The Ra'zac stood on his legs with birdlike feet and used its arms to pin down his with incredible strength, so he couldn't move. It raised its head like it was going to plunge its beak into his flesh. He tried to struggle against its grip, but he wasn't strong enough.

"Halt!" a commanding voice said from the doorway. Arlen recognized his voice because it was that of his brother Ehren. Arlen looked between the Ra'zac's legs and saw Ehren in the doorway with a crowd of guardsmen armed with spears behind him. The Ra'zac turned and hissed. "Wrong answer!" Ehren said and charged into the fray.

The Ra'zac jumped off of Arlen and headed for the shattered window. It leapt out and Ehren led his guards out the door and gave chase shouting, "It's wounded; it can't get far!"

Arlen tried to get up and go with them but his limbs gave out and he fell back down. But thinking back he began to count the houses between where he first heard the scream near the training field and the house he was in now. If he was correct, this was the house Chelsa the healer and he wouldn't need to go far for help.

Suddenly he heard his mother's voice. "Arlen!" she said. "Are you alright? What happened?"

Painfully he replied, "The Ra'zac is here."

Chelsa treated Arlen as best she could, but he still felt sore. He was told that he should feel better in a few days, but that was little comfort when all but the most minute movements pained his flesh. He felt compelled to find out what had happened to the Ra'zac, so with his mother's support he made his way to the great hall in the middle of town where efforts were being coordinated to find and kill the Ra'zac.

All that could be told of the great hall was in the name; it was a hall and it was great in size. Other than that there was little that could be said of it other than there were carvings on the wooden pillars showing the founding of the village of Cathalorn, as well a few other great events of the village. Not all the pillars in this place had carvings, showing how little there was to carve since nothing really great happened so far north. They were the forgotten village as the Empire and the Varden forgot that they existed for the most part during their war—even Carvahall to the southwest had forgotten them.

When Arlen and his mother came into the hall they found the village leaders there. There was Brynner, a wise old man who was older than even Arlen's grandfather, if only by a matter of months. There was Arne who represented the Empire and had been since Galbatorix's defeat, even if it was hard to tell the will of the Empire from his own whining. Then of course there was Ehren, leader of the village guard and Arlen's brother. The three of them were standing—or sitting in the case of Brynner—around a table with a map of the village and the surrounding area on it.

Arlen managed to hear their conversation as he entered. "I don't understand why we can't just give this Ra'zac what he wants," Arne said. "There must be something he would want enough not to attack again."

"We know what it wants," Ehren said intensely. "It wants us dead!"

"That is exactly the sort of fearmongering that you and your line thrive on," Arne said. "For years you and your father said that we had to be prepared for Elf or Urgal attacks, and yet since the war there has been only one battle by a group of outcasts."

"You say they're outcasts, but I sincerely doubt that," Ehren said.

"No matter what you say, I still hold out hope that negotiations with the Ra'zac are possible as long as he is willing."

Arlen was infuriated with Arne's lack of understanding with the situation and said, "I know what it wants!" The leaders turned to him. "It does not want us dead nor does it want us to negotiate with us. While it may kill us, it is only a means to an end, and that end is dinner!" Arne seemed very disturbed by this, as did Brynner. "The Ra'zac is an enemy unlike any we have fought before. It does not want our gold or our crops but our flesh. It will try to kill and eat us as long as we are there to be eaten. The only way to stop it is to kill it; the dead don't need food."

Arne was very disturbed. "I shall notify High Queen Nasuada immediately!"

"Tell the Dragon Riders too," Arlen said. "They can deal with this easily."

"He will take care of it," Brynner said, being the first thing Arlen had heard him say in this conversation. "You get some rest, Arlen. You need it after tangling with a beast like that." Arlen consented and went home with his mother's help.

As they got home Arlen went straight to bed. As his mother was leaving she pulled his sword Mor'ranr from under her shawl, sheath and all, and put it in the corner. She lingered a little and asked, "That's a strange weapon. Where did you get it?"

"I got it from the severed hand of a Shade," Arlen said.

She gave him a questioning look. "Did you do the severing?"

"Yep. She killed herself, though, trying to break it."

"Is that why you don't have the one your father gave you, because it's tough?" his mother asked.

"No, I took that because the Shade destroyed my sword," he replied. She nodded understandingly. "I wouldn't discard a gift from Dad so callously. Both swords served me well through many battles, but Dad's had to break eventually; every sword does."

"Not this one," his mother said as she gestured to Mor'ranr. "We found this embedded halfway into the wall of the next house over. Most swords would break from that kind of stress, but this one didn't. I wonder how it's so durable."

"It's magic."

She nodded. "I thought so," she said. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will," he said as she left. After she closed the door he started to think about things. He could have died today if not for the good luck that Ehren and some other guards were nearby. He wondered if it was more than luck though, as if there was some guiding force to the world. He doubted it but it was something to consider while he was laid up for the next few days.


	8. Bedrest

For a long while Arlen slept, dreaming of things that he would forget upon waking. When he was awake he found moving painful so he stayed down and went back to sleep. He stayed like this until suppertime.

His mother came into the room with a bowl of stew in her hands. She gave it to him as well as a spoon and he fed himself. One thing he had made clear all the times he had been ill or injured was that he would not let anyone feed something to him as long as he could use his arms and hands. The stew tasted good, though he had one question. "What happened to eating leftovers?"

"We are finally out," his mother said. "Which is good because I was worried that they'd go bad before we ate all of them." After a moment she added thoughtfully, "It's interesting how few people wanted oranges at the wedding, or pork for that matter."

Arlen felt like shrugging but his shoulders would probably hate him for it. "I don't know, but did you notice how traders eat a lot of oranges when they're around normally? Maybe they just get tired of it. As we've discovered, they can keep for quite a while if stored properly, so perhaps it's one of their staple foods."

His mother shrugged. "I don't know. By the way, Herbst wanted to speak to you but I decided he shouldn't. I don't much care for him, and he shouldn't be bothering you when you're healing." As she got up to go she said, "You did well today. Ehren said that the beast was wounded when it left Chelsa's house, and considering the stories of them you did well to survive that encounter and return a few blows. But next time you had better kill it so that we do not live in the fear of this thing any longer."

Arlen sighed heavily, causing a bolt of pain through his chest, to which he hissed slightly. He wondered why his mother was pushing him so hard. Of course he wouldn't ask about it; it could be disrespectful. Instead he said, "I'll do my best."

"You had better do that always," she said. As she opened the door he could see a figure standing in front of her. For a brief moment he thought it was the Ra'zac, but her reaction proved him wrong. "Oh, you have a visitor, Arlen. It's Gerulf."

"Let him in," Arlen said. He remembered that Gerulf wanted to talk to him about something, and since he wouldn't be interrupting much now they might as well talk. Arlen's mother let Gerulf into the room and closed the door behind her. "What is it Gerulf?" Arlen asked.

"Well…" Gerulf hesitated. "I wouldn't tell you this unless I knew that you could be trusted with it and won't tell anyone else. You did it for Lynde so I guess you'd do it for a friend." Gerulf paused to take a deep breath and then said, "I'm a magician."

Arlen was surprised with his childhood friend. He was a magician? It was difficult to think of him like this, though he did realize that it was possible. He looked his friend in the eye and said, "Who else knows?"

"No one," Gerulf replied. "Not my friends, not my parents, not my sisters, not even Detlef knows I'm a magician." He frowned. "I don't suppose he's a magician too, do you?"

"It's unlikely," Arlen said as he sat up, painful as it was. "I'm no expert, but Lynde and her old teacher both told me that magic doesn't run in a family's blood."

"But I thought Lynde was a magician and her mother was as well," Gerulf said.

"That's because of the Dragon she's bond to—Artsanna," Arlen explained. "The likelihood of two members of the same family—even identical twins such as you two—both being magicians is the same as two people unrelated to each other being magicians; it's possible, but highly unlikely I think. Of course I'm no expert."

"But you know more than I do," Gerulf admitted. "So will you keep this a secret?"

Arlen nodded. "It's yours to tell to whoever you want, and not even pain of death will betray the trust you've shown in me; your secret is safe with me."

Gerulf smiled. "Thank you."

After a little pause Arlen asked, "What are you going to do with it anyway?"

"Do with my magic?" Gerulf asked. Arlen nodded. "Nothing. I'm not going to use it, not going to learn how to use it, and I'm not going to tell anyone else about it unless you have a better idea."

Arlen shook his head, which didn't hurt too much. "You have your options in front of you: tell the Empire and either serve them, be watched, or be thrown in Dras-Blöthr if it's still in operation; tell no one and head to Surda, but I'm not sure you'd get that far or if you'd be welcome—I haven't heard anything about their war since I left. I think you'd best do what you were already going to do; nothing."

Gerulf nodded and was about to leave when he turned back and said, "But I feel like it's a waste! I've been given this… thing and I don't know to use it as a gift or consider it a curse. If I don't use it then I'll be waiting every day for someone to discover it anyway and drag me off. If I use it though I won't have to wait, but at least I'll be fighting to the best of my ability. And yet what if I use it poorly and hurt someone without meaning to? I don't know what to do!"

"Don't do anything then," Arlen counseled. "Just keep it secret for now and if you want someone to teach you, I can help with that."

Gerulf nodded. "Thank you. Thank you for listening and thank you for giving me advice."

"You're welcome," Arlen said. "Is there anything else you want to talk about?"

"Yeah," Gerulf said. "What did you say to Leonie? She's been asking about you ever since you talked to her."

"I didn't say much. She thought I wasn't paying and I told her that I didn't need to. Our conversation went on from there." He considered something and asked, "What sort of questions did she ask?"

"Almost everything," Gerulf said tiredly. "She asked about stuff such as what you're like, what you've done, if you've got a girl. Marlis answers most of her questions, but she just won't stop! I think she's taken with you." Arlen smiled at that thought, which caused Gerulf to look at him with a look of surprise on his face. "You're taken with her too!"

"And so what if I have? There have been stranger pairs," Arlen defended.

Gerulf crossed his arms. "She was born a vagabond, Arlen. Her parents raised her in the wild. There's no knowing what she was taught to believe or why she's decided to come here now. Her reasons could be innocent or malevolent."

"Then why'd you take her in?" Arlen asked.

"It wasn't me who did it," Gerulf countered. "Even then we can't let suspicion stop us from helping someone who needs it, as my father says. But courting her isn't the same and you shouldn't try it."

Arlen smiled and crossed his arms. "You tried didn't you?"

"No, Detlef did and she refused," Gerulf admitted. "But as a friend I'm warning you against this."

"As is your right, as it is my right to ignore it." Gerulf frowned. "If that's all, you can leave. I need to rest anyway."

As Gerulf began to leave he said, "Again, thank you for listening even if it was only halfway."

Once Gerulf left, Arlen settled back in and tried to go to sleep. It would have been easy enough had it not been for a knock at the door. "Come in," he said.

The door opened and an older man crept through. His beard and hair were long and graying, but his skin was tanned. He walked with a stumble and steadied himself against the wall. Arlen recognized the man and said, "Hello, Herbst. What is it?"

"I couldn't help but hear that you were having a little trouble with a girl," Herbst said.

"What about it?"

"Well you might want to get to know her before you make any decision about going against culture and what have you," Herbst said. "If she's an alright girl but not the sort you'd want to marry, don't court her. But if you learn to love her for who she is and not who you want her to be and feel that you can't let her go, do what you feel is right. I have some experience in this."

"I know," Arlen replied. He considered the advice. It was sound and wasn't directly warning him against trying it. He felt like he'd take this advice to heart. "Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome." Herbst grinned. "I have nothing better to do than give sagely advice now that I have no goals and no profession."

"And if you got a job?"

"Then I'd have something to do and I wouldn't need to lounge around here all day. I might even be able to get a house of my own."

Arlen nodded. Since Herbst was interested he would try talking to Ludger sometime about this. Ludger did need the help and Herbst needed something to do. While he had no idea when he'd be able to talk to him about it, he would do it as soon as he could.

Herbst, most likely seeing that he'd said what he'd come there to say, left Arlen to sleep. Now if no one would bother him, he would.


	9. Beginning Ventures

It was a week until Arlen was strong enough to stand, and when he was he walked with a walking stick at his side. He went out for a walk that day and started towards Ludger's tavern. It was on this day that he would speak to Ludger about hiring Herbst.

There were few in the tavern at this time, so Ludger had time to speak with Arlen. They went to a backroom, away from the few customers there, and discussed the possibility of employing Herbst. It was easy enough to convince him it was a good idea to hire him, though that was not the only thing he wanted to talk to him about.

"What do you know about Leonie?" Arlen asked.

Ludger looked surprised and replied with, "She came to us one day, out of the blue, and asked me for a job. Said her family lived out in the wild and she wanted out of that. I gave her a job I thought she could handle, and she has. Course she didn't have a place to stay or many clothes to wear, so me and my wife thought to take her in for a while.

"She's smart, honest, and very observant. She's been a great help, and one of the best servers here—and that's putting her over some of my own kin. She's a little cold though. She turned down my boy Detlef hard, though I wouldn't want him trying any of that anyway since I don't think they were right for each other. I think she's a little sweet on you though."

Arlen smiled. "So I've heard."

"As much as I don't want to tell you how to live, I think this whole thing with how rich or poor they are or what they do says whether they can marry or not. If a fine young man loves a fine young woman and she loves him back, why shouldn't they get married?"

"My feelings exactly."

"Though," Ludger leaned in close, "I do think you should get to know each other first."

"I think I'll do that now," Arlen said as he got up.

He was about to leave when Detlef burst in and said, "They told me you'd be here, Arlen. Come on! You're going to want to see this!"

Arlen followed Detlef as fast as he could without falling over, but he was soon left behind as he ran through the tavern. Arlen wondered what could get him so excited.

When he came out he found three men riding through the village with tired horses. One wore the purple tunic of the Queen's Magicians, another had chainmail and a bow, but the leader was someone that Arlen could put a name to. It was Roran Stronghammer who rode into Cathalorn on a white horse.

Roran rode in the direction of the great hall so Arlen went there too, but by faster ways that were not as evident or easy for horses to go through. He still didn't get there before Roran though. He came forward as Roran and Ehren had finished introducing themselves and the purpose of the trio's visit. "I'm here to hunt the Ra'zac," Roran announced.

"Good luck," Arlen said. "I tangled with it and I barely made it out alive."

Roran turned and seemed surprised to see Arlen. "Arlen son of Dryden, I didn't know you'd be here."

"This is my home," Arlen said.

"Aye, but I thought you'd be off with Lynde and Rose."

Arlen frowned at the names. "Lynde and I parted ways, and last I saw Rose she was in Surda."

Roran nodded in acknowledgement. "So you fought the Ra'zac?"

"Yeah. Last I saw it, it was wounded. If we find it again, we may be able to finish it off."

"Then let's find it," Roran said as he looked around. "Do you know where it is?"

"In the forest, we believe," Ehren said. "We've sent out search parties, but whenever they find it they don't all come back. We've lost five men to that creature and we don't need to lose any more."

"You can't beat the Ra'zac with normal means, which is why we're here," Roran explained. Looking to the Magician he'd ridden in with he said, "I brought Roden in because the Ra'zac has no defense against magic that I know of. When we find it he can kill the thing so we can all go home feeling a lot safer."

"Then let's go," Arlen said.

"No you're staying here," Ehren said. "You're not ready to fight it again. Just let us handle it. We can find and kill it and be home in time for supper. Just stay here and keep the homefront safe."

Arlen sighed heavily. "Fine, but you owe me one!"

"No, you owe me one for convincing you to stay here," Ehren corrected.

"No that's why you owe me!"

"You can figure this out later," Roran said. "Ehren, assemble ten of your best men to go with us. Not even the Ra'zac can outfight fourteen of us if we stick together."

As Ehren went about his task Arlen went back home. He didn't need to stick around for this, nor know who it was that was going on this mission. If he had to stay here, it didn't matter how much he knew of this expedition as it would just give him a list of friends to worry about. He knew most of the better guardsmen, even trained a couple of them, and if he couldn't stand by their side, he didn't want to know who they were. Ignorance, in this case, was the most blissful thought he could think of.

When he got home he sat on the porch and longed for a sword he could sharpen. Sharpening his sword was something that helped calm him down and allowed him to take his mind off whatever was bothering him usually. The amount of focus required to sharpen a blade didn't allow for any stray thoughts, but he wished he could do it now. Mor'ranr's nature didn't allow for such things so he'd just have to go without.

The day was nice, all things considered. The sun was shining, there was a soft breeze coming in from the east, and the air smelled of flowers. It was a rather cool summer day, it being about as hot as it had been in Surda during springtime. He enjoyed the weather and wished it was like this more often.

Arlen was snapped from the moment when Herbst came out of the house. The older man had his staff in hand and looked to Arlen with curious eyes. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Just enjoying the day," Arlen said, "and trying to keep my mind off troubling things." He picked a blade of grass and began to fiddle with it, trying not to think of who could be going on that mission. Remembering he had news for Herbst he said, "I got you a job working for Ludger. If you do it well, you could be paid quite a bit."

"Good," Herbst said. "Now I'll have something to do." Herbst seemed to see something out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at it. Arlen followed his gaze and saw Leonie walking towards them. "Speaking of something to do, I'll be going now." Herbst then walked away past Leonie as she came up to Arlen.

Leonie looked a little nervous but spoke anyway. "Hello, Arlen. Beautiful day isn't it?"

"Yeah," Arlen said, "it certainly is but…"

"But what? Spit it out."

He hesitated to say it, since it seemed a little childish, but it was certainly true. "But it isn't as beautiful as you."

She smiled and it was a grand smile. "Well yer awfully kind, aren't you? Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She looked at him slyly and said, "You don't look so bad yerself. Of course if you don't plan on growing a beard, you'd better shave soon."

Arlen felt his face and yes he did have the beginnings of a beard. He figured that with all his bruises his hand wouldn't be steady enough to shave without giving himself a new scar and he didn't trust anyone else to hold a blade that close to his face. He shrugged and said, "Sorry about this. I wasn't meaning to grow it."

"Keep it," Leonie said, still smiling. "I think you'd look good with one, you know."

"Maybe, but it'd be awfully itchy." Arlen thought for a moment and realized that it was a little strange for any employee of Ludger's to be away from the tavern this close to lunch. There had to be a good reason for her visit and he was going to find out. "Why exactly are you here?"

"I came to see you," Leonie said. "I've been thinking about you since we met last week, and from what I've heard, you've been thinking about me too." Arlen raised his hands in admittance. Leonie's smile disappeared as she said, "Do you think it's particularly wise to try this with how some people talk about class around here?"

"Maybe not," Arlen admitted. "But wisdom cannot always control who one loves, only what they do with that love. Of course I don't know if this is love, but I'd be willing to find out with you."

She smiled again and said, "So am I." And with that they began a wonderful conversation that would last a long time.


	10. Iet'baen

Lynde and Artsanna had been training for over a week at the Riders' Tower and managed to actually learn some things. Using Razrok's sword Lynde's swordplay had improved greatly, and the amount of victories against the Kull's apprentice Ivuldr increased quite a bit. She had also learned a bit about reading and writing, though it was very complicated and hard for her to understand. She'd also improved in regards to magic with her skill in the art improving and her knowledge of the Ancient Language increasing. Artsanna also learned some things such as better flying methods, fire breathing techniques, and things about weather. They had come far in their time there, which did make Lynde think their time wasn't being wasted.

Another thing was that Artsanna had befriended several Dragons in the surrounding area as well as around the Tower. Not all of them had proper names since wild Dragons rarely bore names, but some of them did, even if Lynde didn't remember them all. Lynde was glad that Artsanna was communing with her own kind, that being one of the reasons they came here.

Lynde was also making friends, having made two of Jeneve and Einer. They were both nice and she enjoyed their company. Jeneve was careful and friendly while Einer was—despite his muteness—well-spoken and joking. Perhaps it was due to Jeneve's almost motherly nature that Lynde managed to learn her letters as well as she had, but she didn't know about that.

But as much as she had made friends she had made a rival out of Ivuldr. To be an equal in dueling with a Human appeared to have angered him and he began to improve his swordplay each time they fought. Hvirag once said that Elven students normally weren't as attentive to their lessons as they thought that they had already learned all they needed to know before they became bonded, stymieing their education. She wondered if their teachers had intended for Ivuldr to want to become better than Lynde through their sparring or if it was a sort of accident.

One day Lynde was allowed to go back to the dormitories without completing all of her normal lessons. She wondered about this especially since the lessons she didn't have were magic and swordplay, which were a couple of her better subjects despite her aversion to killing. She was doubly suspicious when Artsanna came back early as well after a light day of learning. Neither of them knew what was going on until a few hours after they got back to their room when night had almost fallen and there was a knock at the door.

Lynde wondered who it could be and Artsanna gave some speculation. _Perhaps it is Ivuldr and this is some sort of test._ Lynde, not being one to deny Artsanna's counsel after her own judgement turned out so poor, grabbed her sword and was prepared for a fight as she went to the door. Instead of Ivuldr she found a different Elf: Rhunön the swordsmith. "Sheath your sword and come with me," Rhunön said curtly.

Lynde was about to comply—not wanting to upset someone with authority over her—when Artsanna asked the Elf, _Why?_

Rhunön frowned. "What we are going to do tonight will affect your Rider's life hopefully forever. Tonight we forge a sword for you worthy of a Rider."

Artsanna had another question though. _Why do you need us then?_

"Because it has been a tradition since the forging of Brisingr—the sword made for and by Eragon—for the Rider to have a hand in the making of their sword. Now come along both of you; we don't need any more delays."

Lynde and Artsanna followed Rhunön out of the dormitory and into a secluded area of the mesa. In the area there a structure of white bricks with the orange glow of fire coming from it that she found a little curious as well as an anvil and other things she would assume was normal for a blacksmith to have. Was this where her sword would be forged?

Rhunön turned to Lynde and Artsanna and began to explain why they were there. "You see, young ones, in the time when Brisingr was forged I could not make the blade, but instead I worked through Eragon to forge the sword. My mind controlled his body, and in this way Eragon had a greater understanding of his sword than most would. For some time we held this as something all Riders had to imitate, but some students have a problem with this. If you do not wish to do it, you don't have to, but I will need your help in some other areas."

Lynde thought back to her experience with Tyra and the complete lack control she felt. Her will meant nothing against the Shade's, having no say in what she did or didn't do. With those memories in mind she said, "No, I don't want to do this."

Rhunön nodded understandingly. "A lot of students have the same sort of apprehension when it comes to this, so it matters not. Fortunately the reason I couldn't forge swords before is gone so I can do it myself. Now what sort of blade would you like?"

"A long one if it's alright," Lynde said. "I've grown quite skilled with Razrok's, though it is a bit big for me. I like the reach though; it makes fighting more skilled or stronger opponents easier."

Rhunön nodded. "I'm always hesitant to make large ones like that. The first I considered a challenge and I made it for the first Urgal Rider, who was also a Kull. It's wasted now."

"Wasted how?"

Rhunön didn't hesitate when she said in a low voice, "If you don't know what happened to her, then it's best I not to tell you. For now let's focus on the sword." While she would ask Hvirag what exactly it was that Rhunön didn't want to tell her, for now she would focus on the sword as the blacksmith asked. "So you want a Kull blade?"

Lynde nodded affirmatively. "Or something like it."

"Well it takes a lot of metal to forge a sword like that, but I think it would be worth it," Rhunön said. "There are limitations to having a blade like this though. You can't fight indoors easily and it will be heavier than a normal sword. Are you sure that you want one like this?"

Lynde considered it briefly before deciding, "Yes I do."

Rhunön smiled as she shook her head. "Humans," Rhunön said mirthfully. "Just when I thought they couldn't get any more eccentric, you decide that you want a blade like Kull's. That should certainly earn you some looks." Lynde wasn't entirely sure what she meant by that, but Artsanna explained.

As Rhunön went over to the white brick structure she asked, "Do you want to watch? While it's not actually forging, it should give you a greater insight than most into the forging of your sword."

Lynde asked Artsanna what she thought and the silver Dragon said, _We might as well._

So, after retrieving some metal from the brick structure, Rhunön went about forging the sword, and Lynde and Artsanna watched. It was amazing to see such a master at work as she hammered the metal on her anvil into what Lynde could only assume was her sword. It didn't look much like a sword now, but that could merely be temporary.

At some point Rhunön began to sing a spell as she forged the metal, and while Lynde had learned much of the Ancient Language she didn't know all the words the swordsmith spoke. She managed to figure out that the spell was aiding in making the metal tougher and more flexible. The song was entrancing to Lynde, and even Artsanna found it interesting.

Rhunön worked for so long that Lynde fell asleep. The next morning Lynde was stirred from her sleep by Artsanna and for a good reason which the Dragon soon explained: _The sword is done._ When Lynde went to Rhunön to get it she found her instead polishing the blade with a fine stone. It was an impressive blade though, over five feet long. The Elf had certainly done her work well.

The Rhunön looked at her and said, "I am not yet done. This stage will take perhaps a week or even longer to complete. While I could use magic to quicken the process, we are in no great hurry. I will summon you when it is ready, but for now I would like to know what you intend to name this sword."

Lynde was puzzled. "A sword should be named for deeds it does in battle, not simply because it should have a name."

"It is tradition for the sword of a Rider to be named upon its creation, though it might be renamed later on," Rhunön said. "I would choose a name in the ancient language. The Dwarves tend to name their swords in their own language, and they end up having awful names. Ask your teacher what he named his and you'll get a good example."

Lynde considered it carefully. She thought perhaps to give it the same name as her first sword Shield Breaker, but she rejected that thinking that they should have separate names. After some deliberation with Artsanna, Lynde came up with a name. "I've decided that this sword should be called Iet'baen, for as grand as it is, it would be my sorrow to have to use it on another living being."

Rhunön nodded in acknowledgement. "It shall be called that, but remember that often times the good of the many requires the death of a few."

"No matter the necessity, it is still terrible to me to take the life of another," Lynde said. "I can do it, but I'd rather not."

Rhunön looked at the sword she held, smiled, and looked back at Lynde. "With a sword like this, I think a lot of folks would be too scared to fight you. The smart ones anyway." That made Lynde smile and she hoped that it was also true.


	11. The Legend of the Four

Lynde was on her way to the dormitories with Artsanna for a nap when a strong wind came upon them. Rangi with Hvirag on her back flew down from the sky and landed before them. Hvirag dismounted and went to Lynde with a solemn face on. He seemed hesitant about something.  
Hvirag spoke first, though Lynde figured it wasn't what he was truly there for. "So you've met Rhunön?"

"Yes and she's working on my sword now," Lynde answered.

Hvirag nodded in acknowledgement. "Good, good." He paused for a bit and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "There are some things you ought to know about the history of Alagaësia and the Riders. I've been thinking of teaching you them along with your normal lessons. I'd imagine that most of what you know is told in legends and the like."

"Yeah, like the legends of Eragon Shadeslayer and Roran Stronghammer," Lynde said.

"Well it's time you learn of a newer legend than that," Hvirag said. "Your first lesson will cover what made Eragon's first four students—myself included—legends. But first let's find a better spot for this."

Hvirag mounted Ragni and led Lynde on Artsanna to a cave in the side of the mesa which held the Riders' Tower—or was the mesa itself called the Riders' Tower; she wasn't sure. The cave did not go deeply into the hill, but was large enough to hold Ragni and Artsanna in it. It was here that Hvirag began his lesson.

"The first of the new Riders was Kaesdir, who met the first boat back from the Unknown Lands," Hvirag began.

 _Why is this land still called "the Unknown Lands"?_ Artsanna asked.

"For much of this place is still unknown to us," Hvirag explained. "We have seen traces of native people, but never met one. They give this place a wide berth, most likely because of the Dragons. We don't even know what sort of folk they are, though I wouldn't guess any that can be found in Alagaësia.

"But as I was saying, Kaesdir was the first. He was at Hedarth when the boat came in, but he was there to meet a passenger instead of the cargo. I think he was meeting one of the Spellcasters that went to the Unknown Lands with Eragon and Saphira, but it's not my place to tell you that stuff. Anyway, Haldthin, one of the two eggs they brought from the Unknown Lands, hatched for him on the boat and so the first Rider of a new generation was chosen.

"After that they went to the halls of my people with their remaining egg, but it chose no Rider of Knurlan blood." She'd have to ask what "Knurlan" meant later. "They then went to a tribe of Urgals at the foothills of the Beor Mountains and there the second Rider was chosen. She was fierce Kull warrior, but her name I have yet to be able to pronounce. Out of respect for her, I dare not say it wrongly again.

"After they went to the Unknown Lands, two more eggs were sent out. The first chosen on that trip was myself as Ragni's egg came to my home city, and the last was Alaric as Magnora's egg passed through his town. That is how the First Four were chosen.

"After much training, nearly an entire year, we were sent back into the world to keep the peace. Kaesdir was our leader then."

"Why?" Lynde asked. "And why is Alaric now the leader?"

"He didn't and still doesn't have the best relationship with Magnora," Hvirag said. "After Thorn burned him, he began to hate Dragons, and even when he was chosen he was at best fearful around our Dragons. He barely tolerated them when we returned to Alagaësia. But as for why Alaric is the leader now, you will find that in the story I am about to tell you.

"It was not even a month after we returned that Trianna made her attempt at the crown. We still don't know if it was her ambition and greed that led her to this or if she was disgusted at Queen Nasuada's treatment of magicians. In any case, the four of us went to Ilirea to aid in the protection of the queen as soon as we heard of it. We fought against Trianna and the magicians sided with her, which was very difficult.

"The conflict lasted several days, as Trianna had brought on a group of mercenaries to aid her cause. The mercenaries were few in number if compared to armies, but we dared not fight them all. Trianna had also managed to use her position as head of the Queen's Magicians to replace every Magician in Ilirea with one loyal to her, so the soldiers who were supposed to be protected by the Magicians were killed by them or scared into staying out of the fight. While we could have protected them, we were holed up in the citadel and couldn't reach them. We eight and the soldiers in the citadel had to hold off against nearly a hundred mercenaries and magicians.

"Kaesdir recognized the folly of the situation and left to get help from Gil'ead, who we believed were still loyal to us. He left our sister Rider—who we nicknamed Fyrn'hjarta or "War Heart" since she loved to fight well and it was easier to say than her real name—in command while he was gone. She managed to hold the citadel, but was killed by a surprise attack led by Trianna herself." Hvirag sighed deeply. "I'll never forgive that sorceress's treachery!" he said venomously.

He calmed down after a little while and continued. "As I was saying, the surprise attack left us short on men and we retreated to the throne room. It was not long before Trianna broke down the doors, but there we fought a last stand. I was busy with a couple of Urgal mercenaries when Alaric fought Trianna. The sorceress was very powerful and Alaric could not stand against her alone, but Magnora aided him right when he needed it and together they defeated her and forced the would-be usurper to surrender.

"Those of us who survived were declared as heroes, though Kaesdir least of all since the relief force from Gil'ead arrive too late to help in any great capacity. It was a time for celebration but also for mourning. Fyrn'hjarta's sacrifice was not forgotten as she died standing her ground against great odds. The Urgals of her tribe took her sword and made a memorial from it to remember the first Rider who was born an Urgal, and it still stands at the foot of the Beor mountains in the center of the village she lived in. She was a true warrior and a dear friend."

Lynde found herself crying a little, even though Hvirag's eyes were dry. "I'm sorry but I didn't know," Lynde said. "I didn't know about her."

"The Humans may not remember her, but the Urgals will always," Hvirag replied. "And Alaric's heroism was also remembered. After a few more missions he proved himself a better leader than Kaesdir and earned the title of Dragon Rider Chief. He may have been the last of us then, and while many of us from those early days are his superior in strength and skill, he has a will about him that makes even the brave flee from him and a rage to put fear into the hearts of those who do stand against him. I would not want to be his enemy."

Lynde nodded as she dried her tears from earlier. What she heard about Alaric from Hvirag she compared to her memory of meeting him in the tomb that seemed almost a lifetime ago. She suddenly understood some things about him and why even Rose respected or even feared him. This was a man few could compare to and not in a good way. From out of darkness he found strength, and while he was scarred he was all the more powerful for it. He did not sound like a hero but rather a force of nature.

Artsanna had been somewhat quiet, which worried Lynde. _Are you alright,_ Lynde asked.

After a moment Artsanna replied shakily, _Not entirely. Consider the fact that he who leads the Riders in_ _Alagaësia hates Dragon despite being bonded to the fourth largest one alive. What terrible menace he must keep in check within himself to work alongside Dragons, and what strength he gives up as he holds onto his hate. I hope that I never need to face him again._

 _So do I,_ Lynde noted. A thought occurred to her and she had to ask Hvirag the answer to it. "What happened to Fyrn'hjarta's Dragon?"

Hvirag shook his head solemnly. "That is something you do not yet need to know and so should not. But I will say that having someone die in your mind, one you once protected and once protected you, is a fate that in some ways is far worse than death." After a long silence Hvirag said, "Let's get back up there. There's nothing for us here."

Quietly the two Riders mounted their Dragons and they flew back up to the top of the mesa. They perched on the towers of the surrounding wall and let their Riders get off. Hvirag led Lynde to the stairs where she could get off the wall—which she had not known of until now—while Artsanna climbed down the wall. Ragni went to a large alcove in the tower, below the perch, where she rested. Lynde wondered who built all this, but wouldn't ask for now.

As she was about to head back to the dormitories she had a little question for Hvirag. "Did any of your other fellow Riders have nicknames like that?"

Hvirag stopped, turned to her, and said, "Yes. Kaesdir liked to give us little nicknames like that. I think Fyrn'hjarta was the most respectful one. Don't ask me what mine or Alaric's were because you would be wasting your breath." The thought of such grizzled men as Hvirag and Alaric having nicknames was somewhat amusing to Lynde, but out of respect she tried not to laugh out loud.

"You are excused from lessons for the day, Lynde," Hvirag noted. "As are you, Artsanna. Take this day to rest and consider. Your normal lessons will continue tomorrow. Good day to you both."

"Good day," Lynde replied, trying out the phrase and deciding it wasn't for her. Despite that she would try to make this a very good day indeed.


	12. It Got Worse

For three days the search party containing Roran Stronghammer and Arlen's brother Ehren went into the woods surrounding Cathalorn and returned without so much hide or hair of the Ra'zac. Each time they came back weary, but Arlen was relieved to know that his brother came back safely. It was now the fourth day and a fog had come over the village so that one could not see more than fifty feet in front of them. Arlen hoped that this day would be the day they came back with the Ra'zac's head so that they could all rest easier.

In the time since Roran arrived, Arlen had healed up quite nicely. There were a couple of bruises still lingering, and he did still walk with a stick at his side, but if it came down to it, he could still fight well. He figured that by the end of the week he could probably join in the hunt for the Ra'zac if it was not already found.

It was about midday—or at least he was pretty sure it was—and he was walking with Leonie to Ludger's tavern, hand in hand. They'd grown close over the past few days and were quite happy together. While her job did mean that she was too busy to talk after noon at least, she was usually free in the mornings. Despite all that was going on they talked as if they hadn't a care in the world.

"I've long held the idea that Cathalorn is the perfect place to hide if you want to," Arlen said. "This place was forgotten by all except Ceunon during the war. It was so out of the way that my father once told me that when he said that his home was Cathalorn to the army recruiter he actually looked at a map to see where it was and he didn't find it!"

Leonie laughed melodically. "So what happened?" she asked.

"The recruiter, who was in Gil'ead by the way, asked if it was alright if he put down Carvahall." Arlen shook his head. "My father said that he might as well put down Ceunon if he was going to do that, which he did. So if you ever wonder why my dad is known in some places as "Dryden of Ceunon", that's why." Arlen sighed. "I miss him."

"I miss mine too," Leonie said. As far as either of them knew her father was still alive, but pointing that out wouldn't change her feelings. He had missed his mother and siblings when he was away traveling with Lynde and Artsanna, and he could guess it was that sort of longing she felt—the kind that couldn't be sated.

But the longing Arlen had for his father was worse as he knew that there was no way in the mortal world they lived in to ever fulfill it, short of dying and at that point it would depend if there was an afterlife or not. He sincerely hoped there was otherwise he had more reason to fear death than just a little discomfort and a mourning family.

Drawing his mind away from that subject he asked, "So anything interesting happen at the tavern yesterday?"

"You already asked that and I already said no," Leonie replied.

"Oh, right." She smiled, confusing Arlen. "What's that about?"

"Just thinking that we're acting normal," she said. "We've done things and been places that most people only dream of if even that. And yet we're talking as if we were just like any other pair in the village. I love this, and… well I love being with you."

Arlen smiled though he was a little unclear what she meant. "What exactly do you love about being with me?"

She hesitated, then smiled, then planted a kiss right on his lips. He was taken aback by this to say the least. As she drew away she said, "You, you silly squirrel."

Arlen smiled, but before he could say anything there came a cry from far away. It was a distinctive, alternating noise; one of the sounds the guardsmen were told to use to draw people to him in the case of emergency. He ran to the source of it, forgetting his few injuries, and after about a minute running he found the guardsmen and what he was yelling about. It was Roran and Ehren's hunting party but instead of the fourteen they started out with there were only six.

Arlen was dumbstruck. He waited for more to come out of the fog, but none came. Most of them were injured; Ehren had a three bloody lines leading from his forehead to his cheek across his eye and the others were worse off. The survivors were Ehren, Roran, Detlef, Gerulf, the archer who had come with Roran, and another guardsman who he couldn't tell who he was behind the makeshift bandages on his face. Where had Roden the Magician and the other seven guardsmen gone?

Arlen ran over to help as did a few others who had responded. Arlen helped to support Ehren who was limping along, but there weren't any visible wounds on his legs, except maybe a twisted ankle. As he shouldered his older brother he asked, "What happened?"

"We found it," Ehren said painfully. "We found the Ra'zac."

"Is it dead?" Arlen asked hopefully.

"No," Ehren said. He pointed to cuts on his face and said, "This is from fighting it, though I was lucky I stepped back in time, even if I did sprain my ankle."

Arlen nodded. "Let's get you to Chelsa before you bleed out."

He was going to carry Ehren all the way to Chelsa's house but he heard angry shouting and the like, so he had another guardsman carry his wounded brother while he investigated. Arlen ran to the source of the commotion outside of Ludger's tavern. There he found Emmerich, a real troublemaker who had ended up in the stocks more than once because of his abrasive personality and disregard for authority. If only they could hang him for such things. It didn't surprise him that Emmerich was stirring up trouble but usually he only got a few other people to agree with him not the crowd that was behind him.

There were a few guardsmen already there, but they were stretched thinly these days. He was surprised that this many were even able to be here, but they were encouraging new recruits more now than ever because of the Ra'zac. He didn't expect there guardsmen to do much good in handling this so he stepped in with arms crossed. "What is it this time, Emmerich?" he asked.

Emmerich turned to him with an evil smile behind his gray beard. "It's good that you're here," Emmerich said. "I figured out who brought the Ra'zac here and Ludger won't give her up!"

Arlen had a thought as to who Emmerich meant but really hoped it wasn't her. He asked, "Who do you think did it?"

"Oh I don't think, I know!" Emmerich announced. "It's that outsider Leonie! She scouted this place out for the beast and told it that there would a fine feast waiting for it! Make Ludger unlock the door before we break it down. We'll take care of everything else."

Arlen frowned deeply and said while trying to keep his anger back, "Do you have even a shred of proof that she did it?"

"She showed up just a few weeks before that thing arrived! Do you need any more proof?"

"That you don't have anything? No I don't." Arlen put his hand on Mor'ranr and said, "Leave now in peace unless you want to buy a drink."

"I won't take orders from a child like you!" Emmerich said.

Emmerich tried to pass by Arlen to the door but he stopped the menace by grabbing hold of him. Emmerich then punched him in the jaw, making him stagger backwards. He was enraged but would keep himself collected and rational. Emmerich on the other hand tried to punch him again, but he grabbed the fist and punched him once in the stomach and once on the chin. Being an older man Emmerich collapsed without a sound except a thud when he hit the ground.

Arlen looked at the crowd and said loud enough for everyone to hear, "Emmerich was mad and always was. He accused many of things that they couldn't do. Remember the imaginary murders and affairs he said happened? He's never made sense and if he ever does we won't know because his word is so utterly tainted and his mind addled that I don't think he even sees truth in the same way we do! Let's not try to take advice from the rantings of a madman, and go home. Let us remember this time as just another time that Emmerich was wrong." The crowd dispersed after that, except a few that wanted into the tavern for lunch after Arlen convinced Ludger to unlock the door.

Arlen decided to go in to check on Leonie. She was sitting at a table looking very shaken up. He went over to her and asked, "Are you alright?"

"I've been better," she said haltingly. Over time she spoke faster. "I was worried that they'd never accept me as me, but now they're not accepting me as who I'm not."

Arlen shook his head. "That was Emmerich's doing. He's always like that. Half the people from out of town end up getting something nasty about them said by him, and just as many from here. We'd all like to be rid of him but he keeps coming back."

"Maybe when he goes to another village they kick him out too," Leonie suggested almost jokingly.

"Maybe." It was good to see her at least trying a little to be happy after that. This was a bad situation with a man-eating monster right outside their village and they couldn't afford to lose their heads like Emmerich made so many do. At the same time if they lost their mirth, there wouldn't be much of a reason to survive. They had to stay sane and serious but also know when to crack a good joke, and if they couldn't do that, at least a vaguely okay joke would do.


	13. A New Plan

Arlen went to see the survivors of the hunting party as soon as he could. They were at Chelsa's, who was amiable enough to let him in as long as he didn't aggravate any of the injured. Few had received any treatment, but Chelsa was going about it responsibly taking on more critically injured folks first and those like Ehren last. Chelsa had also gotten a young helper to change the bandages those who needed it. It was well done, admirable almost, but Arlen wished that it wasn't necessary.

The Ra'zac had dealt them a terrible blow. Seven guardsmen had been killed as well as the Magician Roden. These six were the lucky ones having survived, but if luck was completely on their side the Ra'zac wound have impaled itself on a tree branch by now and bled out. Most of them would not be fighting any time soon, and some would not fight again.

Detlef had it worst and had been carried in by two others. He had scratches all over his body and had lost a lot of blood. He didn't have the stomach to linger on such terrible wounds inflicted on his childhood friend so he didn't know how badly he'd been hurt or what he had lost. He certainly hoped that Detlef had not lost something valuable to the beast—like his life. Chelsa was treating Detlef away from her other charges for now, leaving the others in her waiting room.

Gerulf was in the best shape so Arlen talked to him. He wanted to know exactly what happened with the Ra'zac. Gerulf was sitting on the floor, back to the wall, unlike some others who were resting on pallets. He had sort of a dazed expression before he saw Arlen. "Arlen!" he said excitedly. "You're here!"

"Yes I'm here," Arlen said as he smiled. He was gladdened by the fact that Gerulf was so happy to see him, despite everything. He felt bad that he'd have to remind Gerulf of terrible things. "Can you tell me about your fight with the Ra'zac?"

Gerulf's smile turned into a frown after Arlen said that. But he did answer him, much to Arlen's pleasure. "The Ra'zac jumped us," he said. "Rear man was the first to get hit and he screamed. We turned and attacked the creature, but it was too quick. It jumped over our spears and tore us to pieces. Roden spoke a spell that made the Ra'zac writhe and scream like it was on fire, but then as he went in to gloat the monster tore his throat out. It was then free to attack us and it did.

"Ehren didn't want to retreat, but Roran ordered us. We could have killed it too. I saw an opening, and if I hadn't been dragged away, I would have killed it. I found the Ra'zac's weakness!"

"What is it?" Arlen asked.

"There's a scale or something missing from its armpit," Gerulf stated as he pointed to his right armpit. "You can fit a spear or a sword in there easily. It looked like it was growing back or something too, so there's only so long we can do it!"

Gerulf tried to get up but Arlen forced him back down. "Stay here and rest. Have Chelsa take a look at those scratches while I plan things out. We're going to kill the Ra'zac any way we can short of burning down everything."

Gerulf nodded. "Get the cretin that hurt my brother," he said, to which Arlen nodded back.

Arlen was then called over by Ehren who was lying on a pallet. The scratches on his face were bandaged up, which also covered his right eye, but his leg had received no treatment. "Arlen," Ehren whispered, "I need to tell you something."

"What is it?" Arlen responded in a low voice.

"We're done," Ehren said. "That's it; Roran has sunk us."

"Why?" Arlen wondered, wanting to know what he meant by that. Roran Stronghammer was a legendarily brilliant tactician, so Arlen wanted to know what mistake he had made and how it could be so terrible.

"Roran made us run," Ehren said. "While I have nothing against living, it would have been better if we had all died there than run. At least then the Ra'zac would have learned that it didn't matter how many we lose, we will fight it until either it's dead or we are. Now it knows that it can make us fear it. Now it's going to stop running from our patrols when the fighting gets tough; now it's going to make us retreat, and since our on people saw us come back that's going to be a lot easier to do. Now it's a different sort of hunt; now it's the hunter and we're the hunted."

Arlen lowered his head. It saddened him to see Ehren think that dying would have made anything better. He needed his brother to be alive and not dead and eaten by the Ra'zac. The thought of losing him brought back memories he had of when Ehren was injured before, during the Urgal attack, and after when he didn't know if he would live or die. He didn't want that again, or for his grief from so long ago be renewed.

He wouldn't argue with Ehren though. He was wounded and his brother, both of which demanded respect. They couldn't know what would have happened if they hadn't retreated, and he didn't particularly want to find out.

But what if Roran hadn't done it simply because they faced a sure death? What if Roran had done it out of cowardice? He had killed a Ra'zac before and faced down many enemies both more and less dangerous than it. He had been a brave man during the war, but had his mettle rusted? He hoped not as a coward would be no good to them in the place of a hero.

As Arlen looked to Roran he saw that he was in no state to talk. He was unconscious with a bandage over his gut and another over his left leg. He had saved the life of Arlen's brother, which was deserving of thanks, but he was in no condition to talk. He would have to wait until later to express his gratitude.

Arlen had gathered as many of the guardsmen as he could in the training field. They were a good collection of about twenty full-time guards, about fifty with part-time arrangements, and about fifty more militia only there in light of this new threat. This was a good chunk of the men of Cathalorn, and even a few women who were tough enough—Arlen's mother included. Only a few dozen old men and some people with the kind of sense that didn't like going headlong into danger weren't a part of this group. Arlen hoped that they would be enough.

Arlen told them of their predicament. "The Ra'zac thinks it's better than us," Arlen announced. "That it can make us run; that it's tougher. I say we're made of tougher stuff than it, but we've been going about this all wrong. We don't need to go into the woods and fight it. All we need to do is make it come to us."

There were many looking upon him in confusion, which was understandable considering he only thought of the plan a few hours ago. It had come together though, much it his surprise, and if they were willing, this could turn a hunt into a siege—a siege against the Ra'zac.

"With the approval of Arne and Brynner, most families will be welcome in the great hall to camp out. We can't fit everyone in there so those with larger houses—my family included—will be letting their homes out for folks to live in. What we're doing is reducing the amount of targets the Ra'zac can attack—and believe me, it will need to eventually." He left out the part about what exactly caused that need since they either didn't know or didn't need to be reminded. "Fewer targets for the Ra'zac means fewer targets for us to guard, which means we can put more guards at each place. There will be a total of nine houses and the great hall to guard, which means ten divisions.

"Now if the Ra'zac attacks, have the fastest one among you run and get me. I will be at the great hall where the greatest number is. I'll bring some men—not all in case the Ra'zac should run away and attack the hall—and I'll fight it. Until we get there, fight it off and if you can, try to kill it. Don't let it run though. I'm assigning a good archer among all of you to shoot the Ra'zac if it tries to run. Now if there are no questions, let's kill this thing for Cathalorn!"

There were great cheers from the crowd until one naysayer spoke up. "What if this doesn't work?" Arlen narrowed in and much to his disgust found Emmerich. He wasn't a member of the guard—no one would accept him—but he always showed for a party he hadn't been invited to. "What if it just kills all of us and eats us?!"

There was some murmur of fear which he quickly tried to lay to rest. "We can only have hope and have faith," Arlen said. "Faith in our fellow man and faith that whatever or whoever created this world won't let us die here. Though if it does fail, I hope it eats you first." There was a bit of laughter from that last bit, and most seemed to have shaken what little doubt they had in their minds.

This was certainly the start of something great. This would be how they killed the Ra'zac; not with luck but a plan. While he had doubts, all were laid aside when he considered how much he had been through and he thought that he had been through far too much to die here by the hands—or whatever it had—of the Ra'zac. He had plenty of faith and as much hope as a man can have without naming his daughter it—which he didn't have, and even if he did, he probably wouldn't do it.


	14. Doraedor

Lynde and Jeneve were in the library about midway through their writing lesson. It had been a several days since Rhunön began making Lynde's sword—the one called Iet'baen—and much to her surprise it wasn't done yet. Hvirag said that it was perfectly normal for this sort of thing to take a while, so for now they would just focus on her more scholarly lessons rather than physical. She really hoped that sword would be done soon so that they could get back to sparring.

These lessons were boring. Not all of history was interesting, and as much as she did want to learn to read she was beginning to hate the process. Jeneve actually said that it could take weeks or even months to finish their classes, and while she was perfectly fine with the Shade-like woman she just about had it with these lessons. They were going through the pronunciations of certain letter combinations when Lynde informed her of such. Lynde lowered her head, grasping her temples, and announced, "I'm done with this!"

Jeneve frowned. "What now?" she groaned.

"This is too much for me!" Lynde said stressfully. "Can't we slow down?"

"If we were going any slower, we would be done by next summer," Jeneve warned. "Now let's get back to this. C and H are simple; they sound like…"

"I don't want to know about it!" Lynde yelled. "If I knew it would be this much trouble to learn how to read, I wouldn't have started."

 _Pipe down!_ Einer's "said" as he came in from behind a bookcase. _Yelling makes me jealous._ Lynde chuckled a little to which Einer smiled. _What's going on, you two? I thought lessons were going well._

"They were, but then she crumbled," Jeneve explained. "I don't know what the problem is."

Einer raised Lynde's head with his hand and looked into her eyes. She would have objected but she didn't have the will to. _She isn't getting enough free time,_ Einer deduced. _She's so bored that she's not even putting up a fight. Half an hour outside shouldn't hurt._

That sounded great to her so she got up and said, "Let's go!"

"But half an hour's all the time I've got left with Lynde," Jeneve objected. "Hvirag's going to come to give her a magic lesson after that."

 _Then she falls behind one day,_ Einer said. _What's the worst that could happen?_

Jeneve threw her arms up and said, "Fine, just don't get into too much trouble."

So the two of them ran out of the library and went outside. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining clearly and no clouds to be seen. Lynde was wondering what they were going to do when a small Dragon—about four feet from the nose to the rump, and had slighter features—flew down and landed near them. It was a grayish green color, which marked him as Doraedor, Einer's Dragon.  
Doraedor had only recently started talking, and had chosen his name already. Lynde had no idea what "Doraedor" meant, but wasn't that curious about it anyhow. He was about a few months older than Shadow, Jeneve's Dragon, so it made sense how he would be talking.

What didn't make sense was that Doraedor rarely went near Lynde or any other Riders other than his own and Jeneve. Lynde wondered why Doraedor approached now and even asked him, which he replied in a nervous voice, _I wanted to show you something._

"Alright," Lynde said, looking to Einer. He had a smile on his face that Lynde wondered about.

 _First, close your eyes,_ Doraedor said. She did so and kept them closed for several seconds. Finally Doraedor said, _Now open your eyes and try to find me._ Lynde opened her eyes and looked around. For now he had disappeared, which made sense; he was born with stealth, like Artsanna, but lacked much experience.

As she was thinking she found Artsanna helping guide her. They were encouraged to keep a part of themselves in each other's minds, monitoring what the other was doing, mostly so that they could pass at the end of the day. Because of that they saw each other's mistakes, and Lynde realized that Artsanna was trying to prevent another one.

 _He will be somewhere between one of the walls and the grass to best make use of his camouflage,_ Artsanna explained. _It is like hiding in a frosty birch tree to use silver scales best._ Lynde smiled as she remembered when Artsanna did that and then fell out of the tree when the branch broke. _Not my proudest moment,_ Artsanna noted, _but did you see me before then?_ She actually hadn't.

Lynde followed Artsanna's advice and looked around along the base of the wall. She found him soon enough and grabbed onto his tail and raised it up. Doraedor made a little hiss and asked, _How did you find me so quickly?_

"I've got a Dragon in my head, remember?" Lynde replied. "And she knows more about stealth than you do."

 _You cheated,_ Doraedor accused.

Lynde crossed her arms. "Oh really?"

 _He did ask specifically you to find him,_ Einer noted. _It wasn't his intention to challenge both of you._

Hearing this through Lynde's ears Artsanna told her to apologize in her stead and gave her the reasons why she chose to apologize. "Artsanna says that she's sorry and that she didn't know that your challenge was only to me and did not extend to her. She would also like to add that you're doing well for your age."

 _Not good enough!_ Doraedor said. _Soon I will be so good that I will be invisible too all but those I choose._ Lynde smiled. For good or ill, the mind of a child was full of possibilities and Doraedor was no exception. He thought that he could have unmatched stealth and he could very well achieve it with the proper determination. It was at this stage when dreams were formed, and he would soon come to the stage when dreams are planned out and then put into reality. While he was destined to live a life that was not entirely his own, he could still enjoy the parts that were his to choose.

Lynde heard an Elven laugh behind her; one that was melodic and clear. It also had a twinge of arrogance in it. She thought that she recognized it as Ivuldr and as she turned around she found she was right. He had a strange smile on his face. "You play games with a child just as you are a child yourself compared to me," Ivuldr mocked.

Lynde was about to reply sharply when Einer interrupted. _At least she acts her age. You act childishly yourself by making fun of her._

Ivuldr laughed. "I have earned it through over a hundred years of life. I can act how I like. Compared to most here I am an elder. I have knowledge that my years have granted me to learn while you two have only begun your immortality. If anything gives me the right to act superior, it is my superiority."

"Are you quite done?" another Elven voice said. Lynde looked to who the voice came from and saw a familiar man. It was Kaesdir, Rider of Halthin, and son of Kitharvie who first bore Mor'ranr. He was one of the First Four no less, and had helped Lynde and Artsanna during their travels more than once. She was glad to see him, especially since he seemed against Ivuldr.

Ivuldr was disheartened by Kaesdir's presence. "I did not know you were here, Elder Keasdir," he said weakly.

"Now you do," Kaesdir said. "Your hair has also become the ugliest I have ever seen." He clearly referred to the white strip through Ivuldr's black hair. "Did a bird do that and you haven't washed it yet, because you should very soon before a lady sees it." He then glanced at Lynde. "Oh too late, one has. I doubt she will ever forgive you for such an impropriety."

Ivuldr scowled at Keasdir and said, "Living among the rough folks has changed you, Kaesdir, and not for the better."

"If one wishes to win a battle of words, one must have a sharp tongue," Keasdir submitted. "Do not attempt another such battle without sharpening yours." Ivuldr scoffed and marched away, leaving a smiling Kaesdir. His smile then faded and he said, "I do not enjoy what becoming Riders have done to my people. Some of them acquire far too much arrogance from their Dragons, especially if they are bonded to a female." He looked to Lynde and said, "I mean no offense to you or Artsanna, fair Lynde, but some Dragon dams can be rather snobbish."

"It's alright," Lynde said. "Artsanna is pretty humble."

"Perhaps, but I came for reasons other than to trade insults with Ivuldr," Kaesdir stated. "I am in no great hurry though." Looking past Lynde he asked, "Wasn't there a Dragon around here somewhere?"

Suddenly Doraedor's head popped out from some long grass and he said, _Here I am._

Kaesdir mocked surprise and said, "Spare me, great predator, for I did not see you." He went over to Doraedor and noted, "I remember that when Alaric and Magnora came here she was only a little smaller than this fellow."

Lynde was surprised. "Magnora was that big?"

"Yes she was," Kaesdir said. "She was hatched from a large egg from an old Dragon. She towered over the other Dragons as she towers over them still." Keasdir scratched Doraedor under the chin and said, "Of course she didn't have such a lovely shade of green, nor the instinct to use it like you do." Doraedor made some sort of purring noise to that.

"Kaesdir!" Hvirag called. His voice was very easy for Lynde to remember. He came over and said, "Welcome to the Tower, Brother Rider."

"And I am welcomed, Brother Rider," Kaesdir replied and they grasped each other's forearms. "Come. We must speak on some matters of importance."

Hvirag looked nervous. "What sort of matters?"

"Secret matters," Kaesdir said as he looked at Lynde and Einer. The Elf and Dwarf walked some distance away and spoke more on the matter. Lynde couldn't hear what they were saying from this distance and dared not go closer to find out.

After a minute or two Hvirag came back and said, "Lynde, our magic lesson is cancelled and don't count on any more lessons today. Study with Jeneve if you want, but I don't think we're going to get much done today." Hvirag then left them before Lynde could respond.

Once Hvirag was some distance away and heading for the Tower Lynde said, "I wonder what they're talking about."

 _I heard them,_ Doraedor stated. _They didn't think I could hear them, but I did._

"What did you hear?" Lynde asked.

 _They talked about a prison and someone they didn't want to name. They used a strange word—Eldunarí—and talked about things I didn't understand. What do you think it means?_

Lynde shrugged. "I can't guess. This is something beyond my knowledge entirely."


	15. Kelshk

It was three days into the siege of Cathalorn and things were going well. The Ra'zac had yet to attack, but that was all the more reason to keep their guard up. The people were keeping their heads and there were even some who were taking the opportunity to enjoy the camaraderie that developed in situations like this. This could only last so long though, so the one question on everyone's minds was "How long can a Ra'zac go without food?"

It was now that Arlen decided to check on the men in Chelsa's care, especially one in particular. That one might be able to shed some light on a subject he had speculated on for some time. He wanted to hear from Roran Stronghammer why he made them retreat in the forest instead of staying and fighting.

He walked to Chelsa's house and spared no men to escort him there. He didn't want to take any men away from where they were supposed to be in case of a Ra'zac attack. Even with him out of position, he had left someone he could trust in charge of bringing reinforcements to wherever they get attacked. The only drawback would be that he wouldn't be there to help fight it.

When he came into Chelsa's house he was greeted by the healer herself. "What do you want?" she asked harshly.

"I want to see Roran for some answers," Arlen stated.

Chelsa shrugged. "Don't upset him too much; he's still not entirely well." And so Arlen went to Roran on his pallet.

The bearded man was awake, but not doing much of anything. He didn't talk to the others, except for the bowman he brought with him, and the other men whispered about things that they would normally talk about in louder voices even with others present and listening. Roran was an outsider among them, but it was not out of respect; it was out of distrust.

When a person became a member of the guard, they knew that there was a chance they could die. Some ignored that chance, but those that volunteered to go against the Ra'zac must have known that it was more likely to die than live. They all had to be willing to die for a cause, and Roran had not been and did not allow others to either.

Arlen wanted to know why. "Why did you do it?" he asked Roran. "Why did you save them? I can understand if it was because you wanted them to live and saw no chance of victory, but did you only do it out of cowardice?"

"Because I've seen enough of death," Roran said. "These boys didn't deserve it and neither did those that died out there. We were going to die if we stayed there, and what would be the point of that?"

"I suppose none, despite what some may think," Arlen said.

"To give it nightmares!" Ehren declared from across the room. He sat up and pointed at Roran. "To etch us in its memory as those that wouldn't give up and would keep fighting until we were all dead or it was! We are all going to die one day, the only question is when."

"I said to run, but it was their choice in the end!" Roran said as he sat up as well.

"But by telling them to do it you allowed them to think it was alright; that they would not be cowards if they ran." Arlen shook his head between them. It was a pointless debate. Ehren didn't think so and said, "You once commanded my respect, but now I see nothing but a man too cowardly to stand and fight to the end."

"And what end would that be?" Roran asked. "An end where an aging man is bereft of both sons; an end where an already broken family is broken even farther; an end where a father is doesn't go back to his wife and daughter. What kind of an end is that?"

"A kind of end where there are people left to grieve," Ehren replied. His brother decided that he was done with the "legend" and laid down to rest.

Ehren's opinion was tainted with stories of heroic last stands, but Arlen knew better. It wouldn't have done anyone good for them to die out there. He wasn't going to say that opinion now for fear of agitating the wounded men too much, but perhaps he'd say it later.

After Arlen visited a few others, he left the house to go back to the great hall. He considered stopping by his house where his mother was, but he had been away from the hall longer than he had intended to be already. Night was falling and he didn't want to be out so late as it would be harder to spot the Ra'zac. He had also been told the Ra'zac preferred the darkness, so that was another motivator. He had another hour before dark began to set in so he would use it to get to hall with time to spare.

He was going along, trying not to waste time, when he realized where he was. He stopped in front of a house that he knew moderately well. It was that of Gelsey the sewer, her daughter Edana, and her adopted daughter he knew very well, Lynde. This was where Lynde was raised, in a simple house built for more people than it housed. Like many houses in Cathalorn it was old and well storied, but Lynde's story would trump them all no doubt if only because none of them involved a Dragon.

Suddenly Arlen was aware of footsteps behind him. They were soft, but still could not be completely hidden. He did not turn around because he suspected it was the Ra'zac. No man of Cathalorn would try to sneak up on him like this and none should have been out anyway. It could only be the Ra'zac trying to ambush him and he would let it.

The Ra'zac moved forward slowly and Arlen allowed it to think it was undetected. He made no move towards his sword but continued to look at the house. If the Ra'zac thought he was unaware of it, then he could draw it into a trap. He would draw Mor'ranr once it was in range and cut its head off.

After several seconds of unbearable waiting and hearing the footsteps draw closer they stopped. Arlen's heart leapt up and it took all he had not to draw his sword. The Ra'zac then ran towards him, not trying to hide its footsteps. Arlen drew Mor'ranr and swung around in an arc, but when he turned he didn't find it anywhere nor did he hear the footsteps. He felt a tingling behind him and he turned back around just in time to see the Ra'zac land as if from a high jump in front of him.

He was startled and swung his sword wildly. The Ra'zac jumped backwards carefully to avoid Mor'ranr's dark edge. They then backed away from each other, neither wanting to attack but being ready to defend.

Arlen knew he had to keep the Ra'zac at a distance to avoid it from utilizing its strength, but also knew that it was nearly impossible to do with the creature's speed. He backed away from it slowly, unsure of his plan, when the Ra'zac did something he never expected it to do; it spoke. It spoke in a horrible, scratchy voice that made him want to cut out its throat. "Hear words, not know all, but now speak them."

Arlen stopped. "You can speak?" he asked.

"Yes, I speak, but not like Humans," the Ra'zac said. "Humans know words better, but I speak anyway and hear."

"Then hear this: leave Cathalorn if you want to live," Arlen said. While he did not wish the Ra'zac on someone else, he would like to stop having to deal with it for now. "We are strong, determined warriors. To continue to fight us is folly."

"Human not know what folly is. Humans folly for fighting me. I take Humans when I want and Humans leave me alone. No one else has to die."

Arlen shook his head. "No man of Cathalorn would make that deal, you monster, and you deal with Arlen of Cathalorn. I've fought worse than you."

"Human's name Arlen?" the Ra'zac asked.

"Yes, Ra'zac."

"My name is not is not Ra'zac or monster," the Ra'zac declared. "The name given to me by my nest was Kelshk and I am the misfortune of all I come across, including you." The Ra'zac then jumped at him, but Arlen gathered his courage and ran the thing through.

He drew Mor'ranr out of the Ra'zac and backed off. It then fell to the ground limp. It was dead; the siege was over! He was so happy when he did it and so horrified when the Ra'zac coughed. It was still alive!

It wouldn't be alive for long though. Arlen went in for the kill when the Ra'zac slashed his right leg with its claws. Pain seized him and he fell to the ground next to the creature. He tried to stab it again, but he redirected the sword into the ground. Realizing his obvious disadvantage he tried to disengage, but it grabbed onto his flesh and tried to pull him back. Arlen kicked the Ra'zac in the face and crawled away.

He had crawled several feet away when he looked back. The Ra'zac was a tough creature, still alive despite being run through. It wasn't bleeding out too badly right now, which was a cruel twist of fate. But if he could make it to the hall—which if he remembered correctly was closer than Chelsa's house—then he could get the guardsmen and they could finish it off.

He tried to stand, but his right leg, which was badly damaged, didn't let him. He tried again, using a wall for support, and he managed to stand up. He kept off his right leg, and began to go to the hall.  
He yelled to the hall, hoping to save himself the trip. He yelled as loud as he could for the guardsmen to come, but so far they did not. It didn't surprise him that they couldn't hear him, but he'd keep trying until it worked.

Eventually he got to the hall and the guardsmen went to him. He told them where he saw the Ra'zac last and what state it was in, and so about ten guardsmen left to find it. Meanwhile Arlen got his leg bandaged up by someone who knew what they were doing. He was safe and if the guardsmen found the Ra'zac, everyone would be safe.

If the guardsmen found Kelshk, that is. Kelshk was that thing's name as it claimed, and it was far more intelligent than he would have thought. It scared him how it turned out to be more than just an animal with a taste for Human flesh. Kelshk was intelligent but that made Arlen fear him less. If he was just like them, or something like him, then he could predict him and fight him like any other opponent. If Rauthr somehow survived this time, which was doubtful, Arlen could defeat him as long as his leg would let him.


	16. Fear of Tomorrow

Lynde was sitting in the library trying to read a book that Jeneve had given her and succeeding somewhat. Jeneve had gone over it with her before and that helped her recognize the words. While some of them she didn't recognize because she didn't use those words normally, she understood the meaning of most of it. For some reason she had an easier time reading than writing and this was proof of it.

As she sat leaning against a bookcase she found herself enthralled by the story. It was the story of a young man battling to save his home against monsters of shadow and all the while trying to win the heart of a young maiden. She thought that the maiden's character was strange and not at all convincing, but she did not know everything about everyone and it could have been that someone was like this. In any case it was exciting to see the action come to life in her head and she felt like she was really living it.

She was drawn out of it be a friendly voice. "Aren't the chairs good enough for you?" Jeneve asked. Lynde looked up and saw that Jeneve was leaning against the opposite bookcase lightly with a smile on her face.

"Well…" Lynde said, trying to think of what to say. "I'm really not used to those chairs. I like this better for reading."

Jeneve shook her head bemused. "You're really something, Lynde."

Lynde, not entirely sure of what that meant, said, "Thank you?"

Still smiling Jeneve said, "Are you reading that book again?"

"Yeah," Lynde said excitedly. She held it up and added, "It's really something."

"You realize that you've read it before and you won't be surprised when anything happens," Jeneve warned.

"Well I don't remember it all, and it's pretty exciting beside the fact."

Jeneve giggled. "Do you always look on things like this in an optimistic light?"

Thinking back, she didn't always. When she was captured and put in Dras-Blöthr she was sure that she would escape, but that was only to keep from facing the despair of a life imprisoned. When she was captured by the Shade Council she was scared, but didn't stop looking for a way out. But whenever she took a life or made a monumental mistake she saw it as it was: a terrible act that could have been avoided had it not be for her failure. There were moments when she could not ignore or enhance the truth to herself, but when she could, she did it if only to make sure she didn't become bitter.

Lynde thought of a response to Jeneve's question and said it. "Whenever I can."

Jeneve shook her head. "I believe you. Now why are you here?"

"I couldn't find Hvirag, so I figured I'd read until he showed," she explained.

Jeneve cocked an eyebrow. "I didn't think you liked to."

Lynde shrugged and answered, "It's something to do."

 _There is no need to do it now,_ Artsanna said suddenly. Lynde nearly jumped. Artsanna had been so quiet that it was startling to hear her now. Sensing her surprise Artsanna said, _My apologies, but Hvirag wants to bring us on a mission._

Lynde was puzzled. _What kind of mission?_

 _He will not tell me, only that you should come,_ Artsanna answered vaguely.

Lynde shrugged off her uncertainty and got up, putting her book down. Just as she was about to go, she turned to Jeneve and said, "I've have to go on a mission."

Jeneve's smile faded and she said, "Alright. I hope you come back alright."

Lynde gave a small smile and said, "Thanks." She then went outside and then to the tower where Artsanna waited with Ragni and Hvirag.

One thing which was easy to notice was that three other Riders were there with their Dragons; Kaesdir, Razrok, and Ivuldr were waiting on their Dragons. Lynde realized that she had never seen Razrok's yellow-orange Dragon with what looked like a mace at the end of his tail. The mace was not a forged work, but had been granted to the Dragon by fate or blood. She wondered what they were doing here, and looked to Hvirag to ask as she mounted up.

Hvirag simply looked at Lynde and declared, "This is a mission that will require no small amount of power or bravery." He looked around to all of them as he continued. "Five Riders and Dragons may not even be enough to withstand the madness before us, but it will have to do. Those who remain are needed to maintain the security and order of the Tower. What is ahead only Eragon and Saphira themselves have dared brave by themselves, and is something that Kaesdir and I shall not tell you until we are almost upon it for the fear of the unknown is far better than the fear of what is ahead."

Kaesdir drew his sword and proclaimed, "Today we do not go to glory nor to our safety, but the safety of all those that value their lives; for all!" Haldthin then leapt off the tower and glided down above the tops of the trees. Ragni, Razrok and Ivuldr's Dragons followed soon after. Artsanna then went after them to catch up.

Lynde had great fear in her heart, but she kept it hidden to all but Artsanna. She was terrified of whatever they were flying towards that the Elders wanted to keep hidden from them. She feared for those who they might fail, of whom Kaesdir spoke of. And she dreaded the idea of spending any amount of time with Ivuldr, but that was minor. She hoped it would be over soon and they would succeed so that all this worrying would be behind her.

Artsanna grumbled and said, _Why are you so afraid? They most likely said what they did so that this would be taken seriously. You know how Ivuldr is; I would have thought that he would have jested about this somehow, but he is as quiet as stone._

Lynde took some comfort in that and said, _So it's probably some minor mission._

 _I would not say that, as two Elders are with us, but I would say that we need not fear when it will do us no good._ Artsanna's attention suddenly turned to their surroundings. _We are headed east for some reason._

It took Lynde a moment to realize why that was odd. Nothing was east that they knew of. They knew of no peoples for sure out here. Where could they possibly be going and why did it require five Riders? She would have to find out sooner or later, and she hoped it would be sooner so she could just relax.


	17. Call for Help

Arlen didn't get much sleep the night after his battle with Kelshk. His leg troubled him especially; hurting badly even after Chelsa came by to take a look at it. On top of that he was not afforded privacy as he slept, but then again no one was when they were all together in the great hall. Some snored and others talked in their sleep, both making it hard to fall asleep. But worst of all was the news he was brought.

Kelshk had not been caught. He was nowhere near where Arlen had left him, and while the guards searched everywhere, they could not find him. The fact that his blood blended into the color of the grass especially in little light did not help their search. If only this happened during a snowy month, then they could have tracked him easily, but that would have also meant less daylight and Arlen had been told that the Ra'zac preferred the dark.

The worst part was that this meant that Kelshk had not died out there but was still alive. He lived to hunt and to terrorize again. But for now he would not likely be trying to hunt in Cathalorn, due to his wounds, so it was moderately safe.

Arlen had made the decision to allow people to go outside of their houses, but only with two armed guards or for they themselves to carry a weapon with them that they knew how to use. He also limited the amount of people that could go out at a time to one group per house with a party of two or three plus the guards unless they were a special case. This was for their own safety in the case that Kelshk was still lurking around.

Arlen was lying on his bed, thinking about this and how to fight Kelshk next time, when he heard a voice he knew but had not expected call for him. "Arlen!" Leonie called, which he found odd considering she should have been with Ludger and those assigned to his house. Sure enough as he sat up he saw Leonie looking around for him with a pair of guardsmen that were not there before at the door waiting for her. She then caught sight of him and smiled. "Arlen!" she cried and ran to him.

As she came to him she seemed to notice something. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"In my fight with the Ra'zac I got hurt pretty badly," Arlen explained. "He slashed me in the leg. I've been told to stay off it for a while."

She looked rather saddened as she said, "This sort of thing might make you sick, Arlen. And if you don't get sick, you still might lose your leg. Or you could get extremely bad luck and both might happen."

"Leonie, let's talk about how I'm alive after an encounter with the Ra'zac," Arlen said. "The fact I'm alive at all means I'm plenty lucky. If my luck doesn't run out, I should be walking around before too long. Well, with a staff of course."

"Of course," Leonie said as she lowered herself down to a crouch. They were about at eye level now, which Arlen speculated as to why. She then hugged him tightly, which he returned, and she said, "Don't die."

"If I do, it'll be years from now in my own bed," Arlen replied. "This I hope to be true." He very much did and not just for himself. Ehren, Embry, and their mother needed no more loss in their lives. He also wanted to be a part of Leonie's life as well, but in different yet similar way to his family. He still didn't know much about her, but he believed that he did love her and wanted to be with her. He could only hope that her own proclamation was true; that she loved him back.

As they were locked in each other's arms Arlen thought of something. Arne had most likely sent word to Empire quite a while ago, and Roran had actually come in response to that. It had been a week since Roran came, so he wondered what could be keeping them from sending soldiers, or the better question, why hadn't the Riders come already. They could have been here long ago, so why weren't they?

It was possible that the Riders had chosen not to come to Cathalorn. They might have thought that either the Empire or the people living in Cathalorn could deal with the Ra'zac. Or perhaps the Empire had neglected to tell them of the Ra'zac. It didn't matter why the Riders hadn't come, only that they needed to get there as soon as possible and that Arlen would try to get them here as soon as possible.

He drew away from Leonie and said, "I've got a plan of how to get rid of the Ra'zac for good."  
She looked surprised. "What is it?" she asked.

"There's a mirror at my house, about the size of a bowl." Trying to remember the details he said, "It has a silver frame with a green stone set above the glass—or below it depending on how you hold it. It has strange inscriptions on it that are in so different a language that I don't even recognize the letters. It should be under my bed, under an old coat. If no one found it, it should be there. Bring it to me and that Ra'zac won't be able to withstand what will come."

Leonie nodded. "I'll get it, but I'll eventually want you to tell me how you got the thing in the first place and what yer going to use it for."

"That was given to me by a Dragon Rider during my adventures," Arlen explained. "He owes me a favor, so I have that mirror when I'm ready to collect, which I am. I don't know why the Riders haven't come already, but now one of the original Riders is going to come and take care of this."

Leonie understood and left to carry out his instructions. He was glad that he could depend upon her for such important matters as this. He would have to repay her for this some time because however minor the act was it could save the lives of everyone in Cathalorn.

It was quite a while before Leonie came back with the mirror, but when she did she looked somewhat tired. Concerned he asked, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "When I went to search your room you mother asked me how I knew you." Arlen was suddenly nervous. If Leonie had said the wrong thing, his mother might have gotten the wrong impression or even the right one, which in some ways was a little worse. She was a very traditional woman, and while she had been somewhat upset when Embry became engaged to Jerrell, she would be furious if she thought anything was going on between Arlen and Leonie. Seemingly sensing his concerns Leonie recounted, "I only told her that I was an employee of Ludger's and a friend to his family, and through those two facts we became acquainted."

Somewhat calmed but still worried he asked, "And she didn't ask why I sent you and not someone else like a guardsman?"

Leonie shrugged. "She didn't ask."

Arlen frowned. "That's worrisome."

Taking a bundle out from under her arm she said, "Well I got the mirror." Arlen took the bundle and began to unwrap it as Leonie continued. "It wasn't where you said it was, but it probably wasn't your fault and I found it anyway."

As Arlen beheld the silvery mirror he looked up at her and said, "Thank you."

She smiled. "You're welcome."

He looked around and saw that few people were taking notice of him or Leonie, which he found odd. A blonde haired woman was a rare sight in Cathalorn, and he was acting commander of the guard. He shrugged off the uncertainty and set about using the mirror.

It took him a few seconds to remember the word he was told would activate it, but he did and he said it. "Ethgri," he whispered to the mirror and it began to change. The reflection of Arlen was gone and now it displayed only darkness. "Hello," he said to the void nervously.

The image changed again and there was a bright light and then the Elven face of Kaesdir. He seemed somewhat confused. "Arlen? Is this about the favor because I'm somewhat busy."

"Well this is urgent," Arlen said. "There's a Ra'zac in Cathalorn and…"

Kaesdir was suddenly very surprised. "Did I hear you right and you said that there was a Ra'zac in Cathalorn?"

"Well there's one in the forest outside of Cathalorn, but all the same there's a Ra'zac here."

Kaesdir frowned. "Arlen, what I am doing is important, but I will not ignore your plight. I will be there within the week."

"Good," Arlen said trying to express his gratitude in his voice. "That's great. Thank you, Kaesdir."

"No need. And my debt still exists, Arlen, as this is all part of the duties of a Rider," Kaesdir noted. "Farewell. Frethya." Then the image of Kaesdir disappeared and Arlen's reflection reappeared.

Arlen looked to Leonie and said, "He's coming." Leonie had a relieved smile on her face. "The Ra'zac is as good as dead."


	18. Dunei

It was some time into their flight, which made Lynde wonder how far away this place they were going to was and how long it would take. They had supplies for quite a while, so it could be weeks before they got to their location. Of course she didn't know how long these supplies were intended to go for and wasn't the sort to know such things, which she hoped the Riders would teach her before they sent her out since it would be somewhat embarrassing to be known as the Rider who starved to death. Then their flight was disrupted.

Kaesdir and Haldthin began to leave their group, which Hvirag objected to. She did not know what they spoke of, but she was curious as to why he wanted to go. They were most likely talking with their minds, as Artsanna reported, since not even her ears—or whatever she had—could hear them. Lynde doubted that a little though. _There's a lot of wind from us flying. Maybe that's why you can't hear them,_ Lynde suggested.

Artsanna shook her head a little. _No, I have heard things just as hard to hear over winds as strong as this; they must be using their minds. Besides that, they are not moving their lips to speak._  
Lynde growled. _Good point,_ she grudgingly admitted.

Kaesdir and Haldthin didn't end up leaving, though Artsanna did relay one interesting image to Lynde. It was that of Kaesdir pulling a mirror out of his coat and talking to someone with it. While Artsanna's eyes were not keen enough to divine the person he was talking to, her ears did pick up some of it. They learned quickly that he was talking to the Dragon Rider Chief in Alagaësia, Alaric. "Alaric, I wanted to tell you about a Ra'zac that was found," Kaesdir said.

"A Ra'zac?" Alaric exclaimed. "Where is it?"

"In the village of…" And Artsanna did not hear what village it was, which frustrated Lynde since she wanted to know if this Ra'zac—whatever it was—was in Cathalorn. But if it was, she could count on Arlen and the village guard to take care of it.

Soon enough Artsanna could hear them again. "I'll go there myself to destroy the creature," Alaric declared. "Though I do compliment you on your spy network."

"It was nothing really," Kaesdir said. "Though why go yourself?"

"Eragon has forgotten why he assigned me to my post," Alaric stated. "He's taken over my responsibilities as Chief, and as much trouble as they were, I don't have anything to do now. And besides, this Ra'zac should be dealt with by the most powerful Rider we can get, and since Eragon's busy…"

"Good idea," Kaesdir laughed. "He'll hate that you took on a Ra'zac without telling him."

"Oh will he ever," Alaric said. "Farewell, Kaesdir, and good luck on your journey."

"Farewell, old friend," Kaesdir replied. "And you should know I don't need luck."

"It's the thought that counts." And that was the end of their conversation.

It was nearing sunset when they made camp. They flew down to a nearby mesa that while as large as the one that the Tower was built on—or was, she still didn't know—it was big enough for their five Dragons, which was good enough. They landed and began to make camp.

Tents were pitched, a fire was made, and a meal was beginning to be cooked. Much of it had been in the saddlebags of the Dragons or attached to them. While the soup was cooking under the watchful gaze of Kaesdir, Hvirag pulled Lynde aside for something.

Lynde was led over to the edge of the Mesa where only Artsanna and Ragni rested, and Hvirag told her that she had better sit down. As she sat next to Artsanna, the Dwarf began to talk in a grave manner. "Lynde, the bond between Dragon and Rider is a very powerful thing. It can allow you clarity, strength, and insight beyond what either would be able to do by themselves. It can be invaluable in mental battle, making them unstoppable to all but other pairs. However it requires a strong bond between them.

"You and Artsanna have been through so much together. You have fought creatures, been places, and discovered things that most student Riders could never imagine. Your bond to each other is weak despite all of this, and you should strengthen it."

Lynde was offended by Hvirag. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

Hvirag gave her a scowl that made her want to run. "I know everything about what you're talking about," he said. "Some Riders and Dragons loath each other; they're few, and their loathing can be put aside in times of crisis. Some take to each other quickly, becoming the best of companions to each other. But others believe their situation to be good while there are issues with their relationship that they're ignoring or not thinking there's a problem."

"And you think we're the last one," Lynde said. He nodded, giving her more outrage. He spoke of things he didn't know anything about that were personal to her, giving her a boiling rage. "You know nothing of this! We're perfectly fine. Right, Artsanna?"

Artsanna hesitated and said, _I… We may be as he suggests, Lynde._

Lynde's anger began to melt into fear that he was right and confusion as to why. "Artsanna," she said as she looked into the silver Dragon's keen red eyes searchingly, "are we… distant?"

Artsanna closed her eyes shamefully. _We are._ Suddenly Lynde's arms went limp and she just stared at Artsanna. She was horrified that she had let this happen to them, especially after all they went through and all that Artsanna went through for her. As she thought of these things Artsanna said, _That is exactly what is the matter! I show you my love, and while you are grateful, you do not think of me. While I still love you, I have allowed myself to doubt that you love me back, and it has weighed heavily upon my heart._

Tears came to Lynde's eyes. She was ashamed that she had never let Artsanna know how she felt and that she let her feel so horrible. All it would have taken was a word or two, and she hadn't even given that. She decided that she would make up for this right now.

She stood and went to Artsanna and putting her right hand on her snout and her left beneath her mouth she said with a trembling voice, "Eka dunei ono un wilae dunei ono eom iet andlát." Even though she hadn't been trying to use a spell when she spoke in the Ancient language, she felt some magic strengthen her and reinforce her love towards Artsanna. What she had spoken was this: "I love you and will love you to my death" or thereabouts. She was unsure if she had the correct grammar, but as Hvirag had taught her, magic and oaths in the Ancient Language were not about correctness of grammar, only their intention. She hoped that this would give Artsanna some amount of comfort.

It seemed to and Artsanna nuzzled her saying with more honesty and emotion than all the times she had ever heard it, _Thank you._

"You…" Hvirag started and Lynde turned to him. He seemed dumbstruck by what had happened. After a moment he composed himself and said, "You shouldn't be so flippant about oaths, as an oath in the Ancient Language is not easily undone, nor can it be broken or violated."

"I know," Lynde said. "That's why I did it." She turned back to Artsanna and put her forehead to the Dragon's head plate. "I love you, and as my oath affirms, I will until my death." She then added with her mind, _I hope you can forgive me._

Artsanna purred and said, _I do, and hope that you live up to your oath._

 _Well I have to; it was in the Ancient Language,_ Lynde stated. _But I don't think I would need that to keep it._

 _Oh, Lynde._


	19. The Chief

It was the day after Arlen had called to Kaesdir for help, in the early morning when the sun was still weak, when there was shouting outside. Arlen reasoned that the only reason for shouting would be if Kelshk had returned, so he reached for his sword next to his bed for all the good that it might do. A guardsman ran into the hall and called happily for everyone to come outside, which confused Arlen to say the least. He got on a pair of crutches—since his leg was still healing—and went out to see what was going on. He thought that perhaps this was Kaesdir and Haldthin they were reacting to, but he was proved wrong as he caught sight of a magnificent red-gold Dragon flying towards a field outside the village. It seemed that his call for help had been answered by none other than Alaric and Magnora themselves.

He was surprised that Kaesdir wasn't here, as he had said that he would be there. Perhaps he was busy or perhaps this was such a priority that the Chief Dragon Rider had come to deal with it. In any case, Arlen went out to meet him.

Arlen found it difficult to walk with crutches, especially over the uneven ground of the village. He managed it though and got to the field with Alaric and Magnora just fine, but not before a small crowd had formed to meet Alaric.

Alaric had yet to dismount, so Arlen went forward to great him. He was cautious about meeting with one who had been his enemy for so long, but that was behind them hopefully. He would hate it if their only hope for survival wanted to kill him.

As he approached Alaric began to climb down a rope ladder on the side of Magnora. He was about halfway down when Magnora shook so hard he lost his grip and fell over fifteen feet. A cry of concern came from the crowd and Arlen went over to see if Alaric was alright. Strangely enough Alaric got up by himself and yelled, "Could you stop doing that?" A second or two later he threw his arms up as if in reaction to a silent reply—probably something to the effect of "no".

It took Arlen a second to realize why he'd gotten up so quickly. "Wards, right?" he said to Alaric.

"Yep," Alaric replied. Looking him over Alaric added, "I'm guessing you want to be healed?"

"No… Well, yes, but that's not why I came over here," Arlen explained. "I'm Arlen and I'm in charge of the defense of Cathalorn."

There was a flash of recognition in Alaric's eyes. "Arlen, yes I remember you. I didn't recognize you with the beard," Alaric said in a strangely low voice. Arlen felt his face and found that there was a beard there, much to his displeasure—he would have to shave soon. "There was a lot of trouble about you and Rose after Lynde and Artsanna finally joined up. We managed to keep you two from being hunted anymore by the Empire or Riders, though Rose may not want to go back to Du Weldenvarden if she values her freedom."

Arlen was overcome with curiosity and asked, "Where is she now? Rose I mean."

Alaric shrugged. "Once the borders opened up again, Rose left Surda, but that's all we know for sure. She has a knack for staying hidden."

"The borders are open?" Arlen reasoned things out and said, "The war's over?"

"Yes; Surda won." Arlen impressed slightly, but not particularly happy. It had not been his cause, nor had he even liked the idea of their war. He assumed that whoever supported it would be overwhelmed with joy, but he was not one of them and had more pressing concerns.

"That doesn't matter," Arlen said, trying to get them to the matter at hand. "Alaric, let me tell you the situation: we have nearly one hundred twenty men to guard twice as many villagers, we have no support from the Empire for whatever reason, and there's a wounded Ra'zac in the forest that might just come back to kill one of us."

Alaric nodded. "Who are your best fighters?"

"Myself, my brother Ehren, my mother Emera, the twins Gerulf and Detlef, and Roran Stronghammer who joined us over about a week ago," Arlen listed. "The only one who's not wounded is my mother."

Alaric nodded. "I'll have to do something about that. Where are your village leaders?"

"At the great hall in the center of the village." Arlen pointed to it or where he believed it was.

Alaric nodded. "So where are the wounded men? I think it's more urgent that a go to them first."

"They're at Chelsa's house. She's our healer." Motioning for Alaric to follow he said, "I'll take you there myself."

"Thank you very much, though first I'd like to take a look at your leg."

Arlen looked at the crowd nervously. He didn't like this sort of display and asked, "Do you have to do it now?"

"This will only take a minute, and that's a minute well spent if it means you can lead me there faster," Alaric reasoned. "But if you don't like how everyone's here, I can take care of that." He turned to the crowd and shouted, "Leave; there's nothing to see here unless you want to see the inside of a Dragon's mouth." He hoped that was a joke.

The crowd slowly dissipated and Arlen submitted to being healed. Alaric sat him down and took off the bandage around his leg and looked at the wound, not even flinching even though Arlen decided to look anywhere but there. He then spoke a spell and Arlen had a strange feeling around the wound that wasn't itching, which was his normal reaction to Rose's healing. After a few moments Alaric said, "That's it; you're healed."

Arlen looked at his leg and was amazed at how it was healed. There was not even a scar where it had been, which not even Rose's healing prevented. Arlen looked at Alaric and said, "How?"

"I learned how to heal well because of my arm," Alaric said, raising his right arm. Arlen had suspected that Alaric had been burned by a Dragon or something at some point because of the scars on his face and how his right arm was clad in softer materials than his left. "I believed that I could fix what had happened to me if I used enough magic, but seeing as how I'm still wearing this, I think you can guess how that went. Now let's get to some folks I can heal."

"Right," Arlen replied as he got up. He carried the crutches with him as they went to Chelsa's house, where Alaric began to heal everyone he could. Most of them were nervous at first to use magic, but allowed it eventually. Roran took to it just fine though, as did his friend the bowman—who Arlen had never caught the name of. Gerulf feared Alaric most of all, and Arlen could guess why seeing as how he was a magician who wasn't sure how magic worked and being looked over by a very powerful magician. By noon Alaric had healed everyone in the house who needed it, and a few that dropped by with injuries.

After that Ehren, now able to walk easily, led Alaric to the great hall where he was great with honor. Never had they seen one who had healed so freely and easily. Memories of Fayre and the miraculous recoveries under her care came to mind, but never had she been hailed so graciously. Alaric was a hero and he hadn't even fought the Ra'zac yet—Arlen wondered what would happen after he did fight it.

Aside from the crowd Alaric was met by Brynner and Arne, who were impressed to say the least. "I hoped after that business with Eragon another Rider never appeared here again," Brynner declared. "I have since been reminded that sometimes what you want and what you need can be very different things."

Alaric bowed saying, "Thank you, elder."

"Finally, someone with actual skill taking care of this," Arne said snobbishly. "I am confidant you can free us from this scourge soon enough so that we can continue with our lives peacefully."

"I can, but I'd rather not be given help than flattery." Arne looked upset by Alaric's reply, but he kept himself from saying anything fortunately.

Alaric entered the hall with Arlen and Ehren following. They went to a table with maps on it to discuss their plan. Alaric stated his plan. "I will go out to the edge of the forest and meet with the Ra'zac after I've had time to rest from my trip and the healings."

"Why would the Ra'zac meet you?" Ehren asked. "You're an armed warrior and it's wounded. It's probably going deeper into the forest to hide from your Dragon."

"Yes, but it will return when Magnora leaves, which she will, and I will go out there and lay my arms down to let it approach," Alaric explained. "I shall invite it not to battle but to be accepted.

"I believe that all creatures that think have a desire to do good and a desire to do evil. If the desire for evil is left to dominate, it will, even if that evil does not harm anyone else. But if the desire for good is nurtured and displayed in others, then that desire might turn into something that can overrule the desire for evil. If I can get the Ra'zac to stand down by showing it a better way—a way where it eats animals instead of Humans—then there will be no need for bloodshed."

"That's a bold claim," Arne stated. "What makes you think that it can think even let alone that it will act as you say it will?"

"I have faced other Ra'zac in the Great Hunt and I saw that they had intelligence, though they were too young to properly apply it," Alaric explained. "This one may be old enough to reason with."

Arlen remembered his conversation with Kelshk—who they all called the Ra'zac—and thought it would be a good time to bring it up. He decided against it for now so he could convince Alaric against the plan he had. "I think if you just killed it we would be a lot better off," Arlen said, choosing his words carefully to avoid any information to slip. "Assuming it can think, it will be the last of its kind. Would you rather it die now or live a life as an outsider to all, as I doubt anyone would really welcome it into their society, and die decades later alone and unloved?"

"Better to die because of age than the sword, Arlen," Alaric said. "I know that I would take care of it, as would a few other likeminded Riders, until it dies by old age or by accident or even sickness. I really don't care what you four think; I'm going to do it because I'll be the only one risking my life, and it's not that big a risk considering I'm a Rider."

After a long silence Alaric left them. Arlen's mind went back to stories his father used to tell him about the war and how sometimes he'd trail off when he mentioned killing someone and being descriptive about it. Arlen always wondered what made him do that, and now he had a thought as to why and it was the same reason Alaric was so committed to follow through on his plan: guilt. He felt guilty about killing so many Ra'zac for whatever reason and now looked to atone for those deaths. Arlen thought he understood it, but realized something about himself in the process.

He didn't feel guilty about any of the lives he had ended. Not once did he look back on his victories or well fought defeats and feel the guilt of all the lives he had taken. He wondered if that made him evil; he wondered if that made him just as remorseless as Kelshk. Arlen had noticed Lynde being overwhelmed with grief, and even Artsanna was taken aback when she had breathed fire for the first time, killing many Elves in the process. Did he need to feel guilty, or was it a weakness that he didn't have? Was it why he couldn't defeat Kelshk, because he somehow wasn't letting himself take another life? He couldn't think of an answer.


	20. Guilt of Lack Thereof

Arlen wandered the village, not particularly caring where he went. With Magnora right outside the village, it seemed doubtful that Kelshk would attack as he would be too afraid of the Dragon to leave the forest. For this reason Arlen and the village leaders allowed the villagers to roam free for a time, but were expected to return to the houses they were staying in by sundown. But it wasn't because of all that that Arlen was wandering; it only allowed him to wander.

He wondered about his lack of guilt and what that said about him. Was he a monster for it? He had just been defending himself and his companions, sometimes people he had never met. What if he wasn't a warrior but a killer? What if he secretly enjoyed killing? He feared this more than he had anything else.

He found himself in front of Ludger's tavern where it was sounded awfully loud in there. He supposed that many people were glad to have this day of freedom, even if it was now fading, and were celebrating by getting a drink or a meal or both at the tavern. He thought that perhaps he would join them, if only to cleanse the debate from his mind.

Just as he was about to go in the door opened and out came Leonie. Both of them were startled by the other's sudden appearance and took a step back, but soon recognized each other. She quickly embraced him and said, "Arlen, it's good to see you!"

Arlen couldn't help but smile and hug her back. "It's good to see you too. What are you doing out when there's so many inside?"

She drew away and said wearily, "I'm not used to being around so many people. In the wild it was just me and my parents, but here it's overwhelming." She looked into his face and asked, "Is somethin' bothering you?"

He was hesitant to speak to her about this, but he figured she was as good as anyone he knew. While many of his family and friends knew ways of taking a life, to his knowledge they had never done it. He took a deep breath and said, "I feel… like I should be guilty, but I'm not. Like I should feel something for all the lives I've taken, but I don't. I don't know what this means, but I'm afraid it could be something awful."

Leonie nodded and gestured to a couple of closed barrels next to the door to the tavern. "Sit down, I think you need it," she told him. He did so, despite not know the contents of the barrel or how firmly the lid was set. As he tried to get comfortable sitting on the hard wood, Leonie said, "I don't know much about it, but I know you're not a monster."

"Do you?" he replied curtly. "Have you seen me fight? Have you seen me afterwards? Too often I kill my opponents instead of letting them live, and I think of ways to do it a long time in advance. I've killed so many I can't even…" He began to look back into his memories and remember each time he'd fought and killed someone. Oddly enough it was all after Lynde became bonded with Artsanna. Five Urgals from the attack on Cathalorn were his first panicked kills; three Elven guards from Dras-Blöthr were next; the Shade Vras, who he certainly didn't feel guilty about killing; at least twenty Human men from his time doing "good deeds" in the wilds with Lynde and the others; the five he fought in Dras-Leona; and finally three mercenaries who wanted to kill Lynde. He added them all up and said, "Thirty seven, no, thirty six kills at least."

Leonie looked at him with her a furrowed brow. "Why did you remove one?"

He sighed and said, "I didn't kill that one."

"And why didn't you do that?" Leonie asked.

"Because that wasn't the move I needed to use at the time," Arlen explained. He hesitated before adding, "And… I didn't have the stomach for it."

Leonie cocked an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

"I… Before he attacked me he said that he was doing this for his family; that even by his death his family would be spared some terrible fate. After I knocked him out I had his fate in my hands. I couldn't kill him then and it was for the same reason he charged me. I just gave him a cut on the leg and moved on; hoping he or his family wouldn't be punished."

Leonie put a hand on his shoulder and gave a brief smile. "You're good, Arlen. You kill because you have to, not because you want to. You spare people when you feel moved to spare them. And besides how many fights did you actually look for?"

Thinking back he could remember a few examples, but each time he was looking to save lives, not end them. He realized something valuable sitting next to her: while he could take responsibility for the lives he had ended, it was more productive to focus on keeping those he could alive. The dead should be mourned, but not at the expense of the living joining them. The lack of guilt was just him doing it already. Leonie smiled and said, "In the end, what do you even have to be guilty about?"

He smiled back at her and said happily, "Nothing." He put his arm around her shoulders and held her tight. Feeling moved by the moment he whispered in her ear, "I love you." She made a joyful noise and kissed him.

For a while they sat outside, admiring the sky as it turned from blue to orange. Eventually Leonie stood up and said, "Well, I've got to be heading inside. I won't get paid if I don't do any work." She kissed him on the cheek and said, "See you again soon, hopefully."

He would have smiled if he wasn't already. "I hope it's very soon. Farewell."

After Leonie went inside, Arlen heard footsteps nearby and looked over to see who it was. It was Ehren, sword at his belt as it should have been, and he looked impressed about something. "Isn't she a beauty? A girl who could use a fine young man, if he's worthy."

Arlen crossed his arms at him. "What did you see?"

Ehren shook his head. "I saw my brother in a very intimate scene with Ludger's new barmaid. Don't worry, you're secret's safe with me." At that Arlen let his arms relaxed to his sides. "I just worry what Mom will say."

Arlen looked down at the grass and sighed. "I don't know. We haven't exactly been trying to keep it secret; it just hasn't come up yet."

"Well here's a thought: if you want Mom to not get angry at you two, move to Ceunon. She won't know what you're doing over there."

Arlen couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but he got off the barrel and said, "Well I can't exactly do that right now, and I'd rather be in Cathalorn—if it's all the same to you—for a good long while. I don't want to spend so much time away from where instead of where I should be; here where family has lived for as long as we can remember."

Ehren nodded. "I understand, but Mom's going to have a fit when she hears about this. When do you plan to tell her?"

"Sometime before the wedding," Arlen joked.

"Ha ha," Ehren replied with a straight face.


	21. Chance at Redemption

It was the morning after Alaric arrived, and Arlen had been called by him to the edge of the village. He wasn't the only one either; Roran and the archer who had come with him were there as well as Ehren. Alaric stood before them, still resolute about saving the Ra'zac, much to the disappointment but understanding of Arlen. He understood that it was probably misplaced guilt that motivated him, and seeing as how he was only putting himself in harm's way, they let him go through with his plan.

Alaric did talk to them before he went out though. "You four are the ones I believe will be able to handle the Ra'zac if it should somehow kill me. Arlen and Ehren, your sword arms are the most skilled in the village. Roran, you have faced many a foe down with your only your hammer and your wit, including a Ra'zac, so this shouldn't be much of a trouble. And Baldor, if you're still as good a shot as I've heard you were during the war, you should have no problem putting an arrow between its eyes. I trust you each, now just trust each other."

Soon Magnora flew into the sky, away from the village and out of sight. It was time to fear the Ra'zac again, and it was time for Alaric to make his stand. He walked out of the village and to the edge of the tree line. There he drew his sword and stabbed it into the ground. He took out a package and unwrapped it revealing a good portion of beef, and put it on the ground. He then sat down some distance from the sword and the beef and waited.

The first hour had a tense air to it, but by the third hour they had descended into boredom. Kelshk hadn't shown his ugly face around there yet, so it started to get boring. Nothing was happening! Ehren was actually starting to wonder out loud what they would do about lunch! Arlen was amazed that a tense wait for the Ra'zac had somehow turned into the most boring hours of his life.

He was beginning to think Kelshk wouldn't show when there was a rusting in the bushes around the tree line. Arlen looked over there with new intensity, and slowly there came the form of Kelshk's head. The archer—who was apparently named Baldor—pulled an arrow from the quiver at his belt and drew his bow, but did not raise it. Kelshk shrunk back, but Alaric called to him with a kind voice. After a little while Kelshk came back, but kept Alaric between himself and Baldor.

Arlen could tell from where he stood that Kelshk was not in good shape. He shook seemingly without reason, he had scabs over his wounds that looked terrible—most of them had been inflicted by Arlen himself—and he looked starved. This would just make him easier to kill if they were going to do it, but he would rather let Baldor shoot him than go in himself, because whatever the Ra'zac's condition was, his claws would still be sharp.

Alaric and Kelshk talked for a long time. At first Kelshk seemed ill at ease with Alaric, the only reason for going anywhere close to him being to grab the beef to begin eating, but eventually grew relaxed. Arlen wondered what they were talking about exactly, but he dared not go any closer.

It was nearly noon when their behavior changed. Kelshk went near to Alaric and he began healing the Ra'zac's wounds. This seemed like a bad idea to Arlen, feeding and healing him, as it would allow him to fight and hunt again. But when he considered that they were doing this, he thought that perhaps Alaric had succeeded and even now he doing this as a friend and not a regrettable adversary. Had Alaric been right and the Ra'zac just needed to be shown kindness to be turned from his evil path?

After Kelshk had been healed he looked at Alaric and began to slash his claws at him. While Alaric's wards held, they might not for long. Baldor raised his bow and aimed, but after a few seconds he cursed and said, "I can't get a clean shot! I might hit Alaric."

"Shouldn't he have wards?" Ehren asked.

"Would you want to be wrong about it?" Arlen countered as he drew Mor'ranr. "Charge!" The three of them—Arlen, Ehren, and Roran—all ran over to Alaric to see what they could do.

Kelshk had Alaric on the ground and was tearing at his clothes and flesh, but when he saw the trio approaching he leapt at them. He landed on Ehren, knocking him over, then turned to Roran and kicked him at least ten feet away. Arlen backed away and prepared to fight when a knife flew into Kelshk's side. It seemed to be a flesh wound though, and he easily took it out and ran away into the woods, but not before having an arrow be shot at him and miss.

Arlen turned to where the knife had come from and saw Alaric with his left arm cut up but his right holding another knife. He was surprised and confused since he thought Alaric couldn't use his right arm. The Rider sheathed the knife behind his back into some sheath or something that Arlen couldn't see and went over to retrieve the other one. As he picked it up Arlen saw the grandness of the design and workmanship, with strange letters engraved onto the blade and a small green gem at the hilt. He then sheathed it and looked at Arlen warningly.

"The knives I keep a secret," Alaric explained. "The Chief Dragon Rider shouldn't rely on such tricks, but I'm good with them and they were a gift. They can pierce any armor or ward, be dipped in poison and hold it for days as long as it isn't used, and they never tumble if I throw them right—though I don't think that's magic."

Arlen looked at Alaric's right arm again and the Rider took notice. "I keep that a secret too; cast an illusion and make them think I'm a cripple when I'm actually stronger than any other Human Rider besides Eragon or Murtagh." Looking down at Ehren and Roran, he said, "Let's get them up and get them home."

They pulled up the both of them and started back to the village, all the while Arlen realized what Alaric had done. He had healed and fed their enemy and he would now be able to hunt more effectively. They went from Kelshk being a wounded enemy to being a strong predator again. They would have a harder time fighting the Ra'zac now and they had Alaric to thank for that.

But then Arlen considered what Kelshk had done. He had manipulated Alaric's guilt and charity and turned it against him. He had lied to his hopes and made him look like a foolish child. If this was anyone but a Rider, Kelshk would have won, but this was Alaric. If he could guess Alaric's next move, he would guess that the Rider would seek vengeance against Kelshk and would not rest until he was put down like the beast he was.


	22. The Hatchling

Lynde and Artsanna had traveled for two days with the other Dragon Riders, each time camping on top of a different mesa, and still their mission was unclear. Razrok and Ivuldr admitted to knowing just as much as they did, which meant that only Kaesdir, Haldthin, Hvirag, and Ragni knew where they were going and what they were going to do. That didn't inspire confidence in Lynde or Artsanna as the Elders were always scouting ahead before the rest of them and talking about where "it" could be—whatever "it" was. She wondered how long this mission was going to be.

This morning Lynde woke up early—with the help of Artsanna—and went to ask Hvirag a few questions before he headed out with the other Elders. The sun was barely in the sky and the cool night air still lingered on the forest when she approached Hvirag. He saw her approach and stopped to let her speak. "Where are we going?" she asked.

Hvirag frowned. "I shouldn't tell you right now, in case we don't find it."

Slightly upset she asked, "And why is it taking so long to find?" Her teacher scowled and she realized she'd let her anger into her voice. She lowered her head and said, "I apologize, Master Hvirag."

"Thank you. I accept your apology," Hvirag said gladly, his features softening. "But to answer your question, the reason we're having so much trouble is because only Kaesdir and Haldthin have actually seen the place, and that was nearly ten years ago. The forest has changed in that time; trees growing or falling down. Wild Dragons in fights or engaging in mating rituals—and believe me, one can easily be mistaken for the other—that tear up the landscape. The only landmarks are the mesas, and Kaesdir and Haldthin don't exactly have an eye for recognizing those things. If only I'd been the one that Eragon showed the way to."

Lynde furrowed her brow. "If Eragon knows the way, why don't we ask him to guide us?"

Hvirag shook his head. "We aren't exactly doing this with his approval, Lynde. He doesn't know we're here, and in some ways we shouldn't be, but if we don't do it then it could mean bad things for Alagaësia. We need to do this and secretly."

Lynde was worried about this. She had been in a rebellion once and this sounded an awful lot like a rebellion but of a different kind. This sounded like Trianna's attempt at the throne all those years ago. She was hesitant to go on with this mission if it was what she thought it was.

Hvirag seemed to see her concerns and said, "Don't worry, Lynde. There's a chance all this will be for nothing and all it will do is put to rest the fear of a few old warriors. Now stay here and keep out of trouble."

Lynde nodded and said, "Alright."

"Good. I'll see you when we get back." With that Hvirag mounted Ragni and thundered into the air along with Haldthin.

Artsanna approached and said, _Their words are troubling, I know, but let us hope they speak the truth and are doing this for the right reasons._

It was sometime after the Elders had left that things got boring. Lynde and Artsanna hated the wait for them to come back and tried to think of something to do. Eventually they began looking around the mesa's cliff walls for caverns to explore, and they found a big one. However Artsanna was hesitant to go in and stayed perched above the entrance with Lynde on her back. _It smells of Dragons. I know not who they are, but I would guess they are wild._

 _It's a nest?_ Lynde asked as she tried to look down.

 _Perhaps, but I do not know. I would not want to intrude upon them if it is so._

Lynde considered this. On the one hand they needed something to do, and on the other it was someone else's home. She decided to go with Artsanna on this one, because as much as she wanted to look around, she knew her decision making often led to misfortune. _I agree, Artsanna,_ Lynde said. _Let's find somewhere else to explore._

They were about to fly off when they heard a call from inside the cave. It sounded like it came from a Dragon and it was—as Artsanna put it—a friendly invitation inside. Artsanna decided that they should go in, and Lynde went along with the Dragon's wisdom.

For a while they went through darkness, not finding much except the cave walls. Soon enough they encountered a much brighter area lit through holes in the ceiling. In it were two Dragons; one was a fiery red Dragon with a sturdy frame and a thick head plate, and the other a cool light blue with thinner scales but huge wings compared to itself and long sharp claws. Lynde could not guess their ages, but she thought that the red one was older. Artsanna told her that the red one was male and the blue was female. When Lynde asked how she could tell, Artsanna replied, _I have a keen nose, Lynde. Besides, they smell awfully strong._

Lynde sniffed around. _I smell nothing._

 _Be thankful you do not for it is a terrible smell._

The red male one called Lynde and Artsanna forwards with his mind, which they obeyed. While Artsanna understood what it was they were communicating, Lynde could not. It was just vague notions to her, but to Artsanna it was ideas and emotions at their purest level. She decided to let Artsanna handle the talking for this, considering their situation.

As they came forward, the blue female one lifted a wing to reveal two eggs in a circle of stones. One was an intense blue and the other was a warm red. It was a nest! They were in the place where new generations of wild Dragons were hatched! Lynde smiled and Artsanna was excited. Artsanna expressed for both of them the great honor they felt in their allowance into such a sacred place.

Lynde had a question though, and asked Artsanna to ask it for her. She wondered if the Dragons had names. She soon had an answer: the red one was named Endrvarya'skular or "burning scales" which seemed a bit on the nose for him, and the blue one was named Vara'thringa or "spring rain", while the eggs, of course, had no names. Lynde thought both of the names were quite lovely and fitted the two—or at least their appearances—perfectly.

Lynde thought she heard something from the eggs, and the other Dragons looked at them. Lynde dismounted to get a better look as well. She climbed into the nest, as she could not see the eggs very well outside of it, and watched them as she knelt down. Suddenly the red egg began to crack and chip, and soon a scaly little nose peeked out of it. After a little while, the egg cracked completely in half from top to bottom and a tiny red Dragon plopped out.

The hatchling looked around, confused with its surroundings, and then it met eyes with Lynde. As it began to waddle over, Lynde backed off a little. She was scared that the same thing would happen as happened when she first touched Artsanna and a gedwëy ignasia would be burned onto her skin.

Artsanna giggled in her mind. _A Rider may only be bonded one Dragon, I believe, and this is not even a Dragon who is meant for the Riders._ Now Lynde felt just silly.

The hatchling with warm red scales and was no larger than a dog waddled over to Lynde and nuzzled her leg as it made a purring noise. Lynde stroked its neck and its purring intensified. It plopped down next to her and continued to purr.

It was such a small creature with so little strength. Its scales were not hard at all, but soft and enjoyable to touch. Lynde marveled—for she had forgotten when Artsanna was so young—that a creature so tiny would become such a powerful force of destruction. But either it did not know it was to be fearsome or it did not care as it snuggled next to Lynde. It almost brought tears to her eyes.

 _Lynde,_ Artsanna said, bringing Lynde away from the young Dragon and back to the cave with its parents. Lynde decided to leave the hatchling and the nest to let the older Dragons take care of it however way they did.

As she left the nest, the hatchling made a tiny, sad noise, making her look back. The hatchling was climbing out from the stone walls of the nest, trying to follow Lynde. As it fell she went to catch it, but Vara'thringa caught it first with her snout. The hatchling still went after Lynde, trying to go to her.

 _Why is it doing that?_ Lynde wondered to Artsanna. After a brief moment she thought panicking, _Does it think I'm its mother?_

Artsanna giggled. _No, but it has bonded with you and not in the magical sense. You were the first living thing it saw, and while it knows you are not its mother, it has taken a liking to you._

As it plodded over to Lynde and sat next to her leg she said, _Well I can't take it with me._

 _Nor should you,_ Artsanna said, surprised that should would even think of that. She then added calmly, _But you can spend time with it for now. We have nothing better to do. Endrvarya'skular and Vara'thringa allow it, so why not?_

Lynde smiled and replied, _Why not?_ She then knelt down and picked up the young Dragon, cradling it in her arms. It purred again and snuggled close to her.

The next few hours were spent in the nest with the hatchling and its parents, watching the young thing try to do all it could to walk and jump around and breathe fire—which it couldn't do, and only smoke came out of its mouth when it tried. It even tried to fly, which it didn't and stumbled down, much to the concern of Lynde. It was fine though, and licked Lynde in the face when she knelt down to see if it was hurt, which felt funny. _Why don't you do that, Artsanna?_

 _Because my tongue has barbs on it,_ Artsanna said as she showed Lynde her tongue.

Lynde nodded. _That's a good reason._

It could not last though, as the Elders came back to camp, Lynde told the wild Dragon that she had to go. The hatchling called after her, but much to her own displeasure she couldn't come back. She did send a farewell to the small Dragon and a promise that she would return—one that she fully intended to keep.

As they felt back up to the campsite, Artsanna said, _Someday I think I would like to have hatchlings of my own._

Lynde smiled and said, _I hope you do._


	23. Planning the Trap

For the past day and a half Arlen, Ehren, Alaric, and Roran had been trying to come up with a plan in the great hall to both defend against Kelshk and to kill him. While for now the Ra'zac had yet to attack, it was only a matter of time before he did and they needed to be prepared. But they couldn't all agree on the proper plan, so they didn't do any of them.

The only thing keeping them from taking aggressive action was Magnora's absence. Alaric had told her to go out so far that she was out of mental range and would be for several days as he believed otherwise the Ra'zac would be too fearful to come out and he didn't expect results on the first day either. Magnora would not help them here, that was a sure thing, so they had to divine a different plan of action.

Finally, after a long time, Arlen thought of something different. "Let's put down traps around the village so that the Ra'zac will hopefully be caught in one of them so that we can kill it," he suggested. "It's the best solution I can think of."

Ehren seemed satisfied, but Alaric and Roran were not. "What kind of traps?" Alaric asked.

Arlen shrugged. "I don't know much about them, but if any of you know anything about them, we might be able create one."

Roran shook his head. "I know how to make traps, but that's with men, and we'd want traps of steel and rope and wood rather than that."

"And I know very little," Alaric said. "We'd need a hunter—a professional hunter—to give us the traps, and we don't have any."

The Arlen thought of something. He knew multiple people who had survived in the wilds for years, and they probably knew a thing or two about hunting and trapping. While Rose was probably miles away and unreachable, they had someone in Cathalorn who could do this. "What about Leonie?" Arlen suggested. "She's been in the wilds, and might have experience with trapping. How about we get her advice on this?"

"Alright," Alaric said. "Let's go to this 'Leonie' and ask her opinion."

So they left the great hall, and since they were four of the best warriors in the village, they needed no escort. They went to Ludger's tavern, which was where Leonie as well as quite a few other people were staying during this emergency, and they found something terrible. Emmerich was at it again.

Emmerich the old trouble maker was alone this time, but he was in the tavern threatening Leonie. "That witch should be thrown out!" he yelled as he pointed at her. "She brought the monster so she should send it back!"

"The monster brought itself," Arlen said commandingly. "If you still think she is responsible for this, consider this: why would she do it?"

Emmerich didn't skip a beat in saying, "I don't care. She probably has some evil purpose in mind that needs us dead, or that's just what she wants; all of us dead! We need to destroy her to destroy the monster!"

Emmerich pulled out a knife and charged at Leonie. Arlen intercepted him though and drew his sword. He swung it at him and—in his haste—he hit Emmerich with the flat of the blade instead of the edge. It still knocked him down, but he was disappointed that he could make such a mistake as that.

No one wanted this trouble maker, not even his own kin, so there would have been no great sorrow at his passing. At the same time, as deep as words could cut, he had never warranted death before now. But now was different; he had tried to kill someone, and for that he could not get away with it. Arlen looked to a pair of guards who had responded to the commotion and said to them, "Put him in the lockup."

The lockup was—as the name suggested—a place of iron bars where they locked people up. It usually wasn't for long that they did, but in Emmerich's case he would be held until they could get a gallows up and hang him. Ehren objected though. "I'm the in charge of the guardsmen and the lockup, Arlen," he said. "I say who goes in or not."

Arlen nodded respectfully. "I'm sorry. I just got used to it too much while you were recovering."

Ehren nodded. "It's okay." He then turned to the guards and said, "Put Emmerich in lockup." Emmerich went yelling and screaming, but at least they would finally be rid of him.

Arlen looked to Leonie, who looked shaken up by the event. It was understandable considering what she went through, but they needed her. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Leonie snapped head her over to him and said, "Yeah, it's just that no one has no one has ever tried to stab me before."

"You're lucky," Arlen replied.  
Leonie snickered much to Arlen's pleasure. It was good that she was able to recover from this so fast since they needed her now. "Leonie," he said, "do you know anything about trapping?"

Leonie seemed surprised that he had brought up the subject, but she soon nodded and said, "Yeah, my family would use traps all the time to get meat for food and fur for coats. I know a few good ones, but why do you ask?"

Arlen explained that they needed the traps to capture and kill the Ra'zac. Leonie soon understood and said, "Then you'll want some big traps like the stuff used to hunt bears. It'll be hard to make, and it won't be easy to conceal them considering we're in a village and not a forest, but if it's yer only option, count me in."

Arlen nodded and looked to the others. "Seems like a good plan," Roran said, "but where would these traps go? We can't put them at the edges of the village without the Ra'zac noticing, and if we start putting traps around the village we might end up trapping the guardsmen instead. What do you suggest then?"

"Well," Leonie said, "there are two ways of laying traps. The first way is to lay them everywhere and the second is to put it somewhere you know your prey will go and nowhere else. As we don't know where the Ra'zac's den is—if it even has one—we'd need to use bait if we want to use the second way, and we don't have bait."

After a few moments Arlen realized they did have bait, but not exactly the kind that he wanted to use. Roran seemed to think it too as he said, "What about that Emmerich? He just tried to murder someone, and that would usually means death for him, so why not use his death to better everyone?"

"To use another Human as bait?" Alaric said outraged. "It could work but it would be cruel. No, we need to think of something else."

Ehren sighed regretfully, which didn't make Arlen feel good at all. "It's the only option," Ehren said. "But I'll have him do it voluntarily or not at all, and offer him his life if he both does it and survives."

Roran nodded. "That seems fair."

Alaric sighed. "I don't like this, but it seems we don't have a choice. What about you, Arlen?"

Arlen considered this deeply. As much as Emmerich deserved death, this seemed to be a far different thing than hanging. Hanging, if done properly, was much faster than whatever Kelshk would do. The idea of doing this to Emmerich was cruel, but it seemed the only way. Arlen gave in. "Alright, but this had better work."

"Good, so who will offer it to him?" Roran asked.

Looking around no one seemed willing. "I am a Rider, and if I know his type, he'll fear and hate me more than respect me. He might not cooperate with me as much as one of you."

"And he probably hates Arlen," Ehren said. Arlen understood but was still offended. "So it's down to you or me, Roran. I think he'll trust me more, considering I'm from his village."

"But I'm a war hero," Roran countered.

"We were on the Empire's side," Arlen noted.

Roran was surprised and said, "Well when you put it that way, Ehren, you do it."

"Thank you," Ehren said.

So they went to the lockup, which was near the training field and the armory where they usually kept their spears, but since they were using them they kept them in houses more often. The lockup was a cage with iron bars and a wooden floor. It was half the size of Arlen's room in his family's house and had no privacy or protection from the elements. It could be considered cruel, but the threat of a day or two in there deterred most from upsetting the peace in Cathalorn.

Emmerich was sat on a wooden bench inside looking nervous. He knew he was fated to die so he had every reason to be, but soon he would be nervous for an entirely different reason. Ehren went to him and talked over their plan with him. Arlen tried not to listen and hoped that Emmerich would take the course that best suited him, whatever it was.

Meanwhile Arlen tried to make conversation with Roran. He saw how he charged to fight Kelshk, and realized that any man who would do that was no coward. He deserved his respect.

"You were right to retreat from the Ra'zac," Arlen said. Roran looked suspiciously at Arlen, but after he explained his reasoning and thoughts that he may have been a coward the suspicion was replaced with understanding. "You were no coward and I'm glad you saved my brother."

"You're welcome," Roran said with a hint of regret in his voice.

That made Arlen suspicious. "What's wrong?"

"There are things I regret, Arlen, and chief among them is something that happened during the war," Roran explained. "I just remembered it."

Arlen thought he remembered something that might be what he was taking about. "Aroughs?"

Roran nodded. "So you know the story?"

"I know parts of it," Arlen replied. "I know you affected a lot of people on that day for the worse."

"And you should know that it haunts me to this day the things I had to do," Roran said. "If I could take it back, I would. But I can't, so I have to live with it. Everyone has to live with it, except those who are dead."

About at that time, Ehren came up and said, "He'll do it."

"So we're set?" Alaric said.

"Now all we need are the traps," Roran said.

"I'll take to Leonie about it, though it might take a while," Arlen said.

Roran was confident though. "Let's see that Ra'zac survive this one." Arlen realized he was right. Kelshk would be hard pressed to survive this so easily—or at least that was the hope.


	24. Dark Voices

Lynde and Artsanna were in formation with the other Dragon Riders, looking for a camp site. It was nearing sunset and there was not any mesa within sight on the horizon to camp on. The Elders preferred to camp there as opposed to on the ground as it would be far more difficult for any unfriendly natives to attack them, if they were even around. However, as they were yet to find anything, they began to think they might have to camp on the ground tonight, which was fine with Lynde—it was a lot softer down there than the stone of a mesa.

The sun was nearing the horizon when they spotted it. A pair of mesas right next to each other. Artsanna began to fly faster for just the thought of resting, and Lynde was just as glad as she was to be done for today. They were about half a mile—by Artsanna's reckoning—from the mesas when Kaesdir said, _Don't go any closer! It's dangerous!_

Artsanna stopped suddenly, pulling Lynde's stomach to her mouth. She forced it back down and looked to the others. All the Dragons had started hovering in one place looking to Kaesdir and Haldthin for guidance. Kaesdir then said, _It is now that I can tell you what our mission is._

But before he could explain, an angry voice came into their minds. It had fury unlike anything Lynde had known apart from a few times when she was threatened and Artsanna saved her. It was so great that it overwhelmed her to the point that she did not immediately realize there were two voices in it, both male and quite Dragon-like. They said almost as one, _Are you the one who slew my Rider?_

Lynde held her head in her hands, trying to keep out the voices who repeated the same words over and over again. _Are you the one who slew my Rider?_ The voices kept coming and Lynde could barely keep them out with Artsanna's help.

It was not even just them, but as she glanced around she saw the other Riders were similarly afflicted. Something was attacking them with such fury as to nearly cripple five different Riders. It made her stomach sink to think of what was behind it all.

Then a voice broke through, but it was not a furious one. It was Haldthin's usually friendly voice, but it was commanding now as it said, _Follow me! We must get out of range!_

As they began to fly away a horrible screeching came after them. It was one not she heard with her ears but with her mind. It came loudly at them, and it felt to Lynde like her skull was about to split. Artsanna defended her though and fought of the screeching. They were some way away when suddenly Artsanna was attacked, and while Lynde only felt some of it, the attack was enough to make her feel like she had been brutally beaten with clubs.

Artsanna lost consciousness and began to fall. Lynde tried to awaken her, fearing what would happen when they hit the ground. She was unsuccessful though, and they crashed into the forest.

Trees gave way and splintered under them as they smashed their way to the forest floor. While Artsanna was unconscious, she still felt every impact, and that transmitted to Lynde who tried to shield herself from the attacks. Soon their momentum wasn't enough to completely break through a tree and they stopped.

They had stopped on the last branch between them and the twenty foot drop to the ground. Lynde was relieved that she didn't have to feel that, though she could tell that both her and Artsanna had been hurt badly in the fall, both mentally and physically. She hoped that they'd have a long time to recover from that, not just getting their wounds healed and being sent off. The way she felt made her want to stay in bed for a week.

She tried to move around but she felt something hurting her left side. She looked down there and she saw a chunk of wood sticking out, blood coming from the wound. She felt her heart sink. If that was long enough, she could be dead right there. And even if it wasn't too long, she might bleed out if she didn't get help soon. She looked to the sky, but her fellow Dragon Riders were all flying away, oblivious to their plight. To her it looked like she would die there, but then she realized that she could help herself with her own healing abilities, no matter how slight they were.

She began to prepare a spell to heal herself, which she would not take effect until she finished it, but she had to get the piece of wood out first. She put her hand on the wood, which felt strange to her considering it was in her flesh, and took a deep breath to prepare her. She then used all her strength to rip it out of herself, screaming the last words of the spell as she did. She put the wood down on the saddle and placed her hand over her wound to try to slow the bleeding. She found no bleeding there at all though as it had healed incredibly fast. She laughed giddily at her victory.

She then looked at the piece of wood. The end that was in wasn't very long, so she had little to worry about in terms of damage. She would still want a proper healer to have a look at it, as well as a few other scrapes she had, but she believe that she had taken care of the worst. To think that such a thing as that could have killed her made her queasy though, so she picked up the wood and threw it into the forest, not wanting to look at it any more.

She felt weary now, possibly from the spell, and collapsed onto Artsanna's saddle. That must have upset something as there was creaking from the tree they have been caught in. Suddenly the branches snapped and they fell all the way to the ground. The shock of hitting the ground smashed her into the saddle, and she slipped off to be on the soft grass. She laid there, not much caring for whatever was done there, and began to rest her eyes.

But that left the door open for one of the voices to return and capture her mind. She had no strength left to fight, so she watched helplessly as it went through her mind. Her whole life flashed before her eyes as the hostile mind went through her memories. It went through with no particular order, and she didn't even fight. There was nothing left of her to fight; she was defeated.

But then it stopped on a memory, one that Lynde couldn't identify, and withdrew completely, leaving only a couple of things. The first was a memory of a holly branch with snow and frost on it despite a bright sun being out and the smell of snow being in the air. The other thing was a simple phrase. _I'm sorry._ She had no idea what any of that meant, nor did she feel obligated to figure it out.

She returned to the world, the sky now dark, insects and warmth in the air that happens only on a summer night, and whispers on the wind. Lynde stood up and looked around. While she did not see anything, there were people in the shadows that could not see and barely hear the whispers of. They spoke in a language she did not recognize, though she suspected there were a lot of languages like that. She could tell that they were a threat and drew her sword.

The whispers grew panicked. "I don't want to hurt you!" she shouted into the woods. "I only wish to be left alone with my Dragon." All but one of the whispering voices was silenced. She doubted that they even understood her.

Suddenly she felt very drowsy and collapsed. She was not afraid of what was around her, even though she should have been. She did not feel urgency, despite her situation. All she felt was an overwhelming sense of weariness, which she embraced.


	25. Stranded in a Sea of Trees

Lynde realized what she had done, and awoke. It was day now and she was with Artsanna in the clearing they had made with their fall. The natives seemed not to have touched them, so that was a relief. But as she glanced at her hands, which had been scratched the other day, she noticed some new scars instead of wounds. They weren't deep or large; just small white scars. She knew that she couldn't heal that fast, and Artsanna couldn't have done it, so it must have been the natives.

She was somewhat disturbed by her discovery. The natives had not only come close to her, but used magic on her. While she was touched by their act of goodwill, she also felt violated that they did such a thing without her knowledge or consent. _Calm down,_ Artsanna's voice said, _it will not be productive to use so much energy getting upset over something you can do nothing about._

Lynde felt her eyes widen and she turned around. Artsanna was conscious again, and while she was still hurt, she seemed much better than yesterday. She ran over to her and said, _Artsanna, you're alright!_

As she hugged the Dragon's snout Artsanna said, _Yes I am, but I still do not feel as if I can fly. My wings are damaged and while it seems the natives did what they could, they know nothing of healing Dragons._

Lynde let Artsanna go and turned to the situation at hand. _What should we do then?_

Artsanna looked around at the trees. _We could start a fire to get our comrades' attention._

Lynde frowned. _And how would we keep it under control and not kill us all?_

 _Good point._ Artsanna looked at one tree in particular and said, _What if I climbed that tree over there? My scales would be seen quite well against the green, provided anyone was there to see them._

 _Seems like a good plan,_ Lynde replied. _But if they can see us from there, why don't we just contact them mentally?_

Artsanna's "sighed" with the voice of her mind. _If we opened our minds, then whatever attacked us might return to finished what it started._

 _But they said they were sorry._

 _One of them did,_ Artsanna corrected. _The other may still be against us, and I would rather be safe than sorry._ Lynde saw Artsanna's point and was quiet.

The silver Dragon then ambled over to the tree she had selected and began to climb it. She grabbed onto the bark with her front feet and pulled herself up, using her back feet to keep herself stable. Whenever a thick enough branch came her way, she grabbed hold to make it easier one herself. Eventually Artsanna made it to the top and let Lynde see through her eyes.

Above the tree tops it was a clear day with not a cloud in the sky, and—more troublingly—not a Dragon in the sky either. Where the Dragon Riders had probably made camp was far from there, and they were not yet returning either. Lynde wondered when the Riders would come back for them, but Artsanna was a bit more negative. _Judging by how dangerous this area is, I doubt they will be returning any time soon._

 _What makes you say that?_ Lynde asked.

 _This area is dangerous, Lynde,_ Artsanna explained with a condescending tone in her voice. _The Riders have most likely left us for dead, as we were falling out of the sky last they saw us. We must start relying on only ourselves._

Lynde's blood boiled at the Dragon's tone and she yelled, "Well I think they're going to come back, so I'm staying here until they do!"

Artsanna felt sorry and soon so did Lynde. She didn't want to be angry at Artsanna, who she had sworn her love to. But it was her love for Artsanna that let her be angry at the Dragon's tone. If it was someone else, she would have been offended, but with Artsanna she was furious that she didn't give her respect. But now she regretted her words, or at least her tone, and Artsanna did to.

 _I apologize, but I thought it quite obvious,_ Artsanna said. _I realize that we do think differently though, and not any better than the other. You allow yourself the luxury of hope in situations as these, and I only thought practically. I hope you can forgive me for my arrogance._

Lynde looked into the tree, trying to spot Artsanna even though she couldn't through the branches, and said, _I forgive you if you forgive me for my anger._

 _It is a deal,_ Artsanna said gladly. Now their thoughts went back to the matter at hand. _For now it may be difficult to move through the forest with my wings like this. We should wait here for them to come back, and if that fails, be prepared to move._

Lynde smiled. Artsanna was using her idea. _That sounds reasonable. While we're waiting we may want to eat._

 _Good idea._ Artsanna climbed down the tree so Lynde could get at her saddlebags for some breakfast. As she got out a piece of bread and some cheese, Artsanna asked a question. _You know how I have been thinking of the possibility of mating sometime in the future?_

 _Yes, and I'm a little tired of it,_ Lynde replied.

Artsanna ignored that and continued with her thought. _Well I was thinking that perhaps you might want, as Humans say, children someday._

Lynde choked on her food a little, much to the concern of Artsanna. After composing herself, she said, _That's quite the question. I wasn't expecting that._

 _Well, do you have an answer?_

Lynde thought it through carefully. She thought about how she would live for a long time because of Artsanna, and if she did not die by design, accident, or sickness, then she would not die at all. She didn't think that same immortality would extend to any children she would have though. And as attractive as Elves were, she knew almost nothing about if she could have children with one or if she would want to marry one of an entirely different kind and culture. And even if she did, she didn't know if those half-Elves would be blessed with Elven immortality either. Everything she considered lead to a simple conclusion: she would most likely outlive any child she would have, even if they lived to be a hundred years old.

She didn't want to bury her children. She remembered when Arlen's mother had to bury her youngest, and she did not want that. While it would not necessarily be the same tragedy of a child's life being nipped in the bud, Lynde still deemed it too much to bear. So she told Artsanna, _Yes, I have an answer, and it is no. My immortality would have me outlive any child I bear and I don't think I could handle that. I'm sorry, but while you look forward to their birth, or hatching, and cannot see past the grave._

Artsanna understood. _That is too bad._ After a pause she added, _It would be a difficult parenthood anyway, you being a Rider and all._

She hadn't really considered that before. It was a good point, and any Rider would have a lot of difficulties dealing with a situation like that, especially a mother. Now she had two good reasons why she couldn't do it.

Lynde nodded and said, _You know, Artsanna, in many ways you are like a child I can never have._

 _I would liken us more to sisters if we were using a family metaphor,_ Artsanna said. _But comparing what we have to other things falls short of what we are. Hopefully we will be all the family we will ever need throughout the centuries._

Lynde patted Artsanna's snout lovingly. _Thank you, but you should have your children. You should do it not only for your kind but for yourself._

 _Maybe,_ Artsanna said. _It all depends on whether or not we make it out of here alive._

Artsanna had given her a dreadful thought, but it was true. They might not make it out the forest alive, what with the natives and whatever attacked them earlier. While the natives from last night helped them, there was no telling if they had another, darker purpose for doing so, or if there were other natives who were not as friendly as those had been. And the voices could always return if they wanted to, though she still was unsure why they had retreated.

There were many mysteries about them, and it was entirely possible that some of them wanted to kill both Rider and Dragon. She did not know.

Artsanna sensed Lynde's uncertainty and said, _You know, the voices asked us if either of us were the one who slew their Riders. That implies that they are Dragons who were at one time bonded, but lost their Riders._

With a wave of dread and realization Lynde said, _You're right. So the ones who attacked us were Dragons. But why would they do it?_

After a moment's consideration, Artsanna replied, _I know that I might become violent towards whoever killed you. And they would probably be a threat to the Order, so their death would serve a greater purpose. I expect you might do the same for me._

Not wanting to give her word one way or another, she replied, _Perhaps, I do not know. I probably would, especially if we were in the same battle, but I doubt I could kill whoever kills you._

 _Do not worry; it probably won't be soon,_ Artsanna said. _But back to the subject of our enemies. The Dragons after us may be very angry, but why attack with your mind when you can attack with your body unless your body is imprisoned._ That made sense to Lynde. _Perhaps we were going there in the first place. I can certainly understand why the Elders did not want us to know beforehand, as I image it brings them great shame and sorrow to imprison a Dragon._

Artsanna's theory made too much sense, but there were still questions nagging at her in the back of her mind that the silver Dragon could not answer. Why were they imprisoned? Were they not allowed to pursue vengeance? Had they taken vengeance but gone completely mad? She did not know and she was afraid of finding out.


	26. The Trappings of Drydenson

The setting of the traps took longer than Arlen expected. Agner the blacksmith had volunteered to craft them, but his forge had not been one of their protected areas, so they had to send more guards over to keep it safe. Fortunately Alaric had gone with them, so they only had to send four guardsmen along with him. They worked for the rest of the day and for most of the next, and now Arlen had been called to see the results of their labor.

Leonie's memory had been thankfully accurate, and the traps were ready. They looked something like metal jaws with sharp triangle teeth and a tongue of sorts. They had been painted a dull green, which puzzled him as he wondered where they got the paint. They were not very big compared to their intended prey, but he still didn't want to get trapped in one.

"How do they work?" Arlen asked.

Leonie pointed at the various parts as she explained. "When a foot or hand presses down on the tongue, the teeth snap shut, giving them some nasty cuts. We made them especially for the Ra'zac, so they'll hurt even more." Grimacing she added, "You'd best be careful with these things."

Arlen nodded and said, "I figured that."

Leonie continued. "We painted them green to blend into the grass. You'll also want to wash your hands after handling them. We don't know why, but Alaric got it for us so I'd follow his advice on the matter."

Arlen nodded in acknowledgement. "Are there any other traps?"

"We made about twenty of these, but no other kinds of trap," Leonie said. "I'm sorry we couldn't give you a better variety, but I thought it best to teach one so that we'd have more time for making them."

Arlen put his hand on her shoulder and said, "You did what you could and I thank you for that. Hopefully the whole village will thank you for this."

She gave a wide smile. "Then I'd better get used to saying 'you're welcome'." Arlen chuckled.

Now that they had the traps they had to put them down. They used a coal wagon from out behind the forge to bring the traps over to lockup, which took multiple trips but they didn't have much else to do it with. They laid the traps down around lockup in a circle, but left a path for Emmerich to take.

Emmerich had not spent the night in lockup, but had been allowed to sleep under guard in one of the houses. Arlen still did not entirely trust him, but he would rather not have Kelshk take him before they had the traps set up. He arrived soon enough to go into the lockup.

It was then that Alaric suggested something. "Emmerich may tell the Ra'zac about the traps to keep it away out of fear," Alaric said. "I offer to put a spell over him that will not allow him to speak to the Ra'zac."

"That seems reasonable," Arlen replied. Emmerich had already done rash things out of fear of the Ra'zac, so it seemed likely that he would do it again. Alaric went over to Emmerich and explained it. While seemed wary of this he did agree to it and Alaric spoke the spell.

After Emmerich took his place in the cage, they locked it—which was for his own protection at this point—and closed the circle of traps. Alaric then placed a small crystal nearby and spoke a spell that hid the traps from view. While one could see the outline of them in the grass, Arlen suspected that Kelshk would not be able to see them at night, which was when they would leave this place without an obvious guard. Now all they had to do was wait for evening to leave this place.

They wouldn't be leaving Emmerich completely alone though. The plan was that Alaric and Baldor would stay at lockup, out of sight, and take turns watching for the Ra'zac. They would interfere when the Ra'zac was trapped, or if Emmerich was in danger. They were ideal for the job since neither of them needed to be close to their enemy to kill them. Arlen only hoped it would be enough, though not for Emmerich's sake.

Emmerich was slime. He was a trouble maker and an agitator. He was always suspicious of everyone and constantly throwing around accusations that were undeserved. Worst of all he had threatened Leonie and tried to hurt her and that was something he could not forget or forgive. Arlen would have liked to see him die, but if it meant stopping the Ra'zac from harming anyone ever against, then he accepted letting Emmerich live another day.

When evening set in, Arlen, Ehren, Roran, and the remaining guardsmen withdrew from the place and went back to the great hall. On their way there they found someone they did not expect: Arlen and Ehren's mother. She was cross about something, and by the way she was looking at them, they would soon find out why.

She looked straight at Arlen with a stare that could make the fearless learn the wisdom of fear. They all stopped and she said, "Arlen, we need to have a talk."

Arlen summoned what courage he could and said, "About what?"

"You know why," she said. "You've being seeing that Leonie woman despite everything you were taught about people like her. She is a disgusting creature, despite her outward appearances. You can hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes that she is not one of us—not truly. She is better as an outcast and a wanderer."

"No!" Arlen shouted, anger overruling his fear. "She is insightful, intelligent, and lovely. I have given her my love as there is no greater gift I can give to her. I accept that you are wiser than me, but no one is infallible, not even the wisest. Everyone fails at one time, and here is where you do. I love Leonie and will love her no matter what you say."

She raised a finger and said, "You will see your own foolishness eventually. I hope you do before I am forced to disown you." That cut him deep. The most important thing to him was his family, and his mother's threat made him think about whether or not his love for Leonie was so great as to give up what he held dearest to him. She then lowered her hand and said, "I hope you make the right choice because I don't want to have to do this."

As his mother headed home Ehren came beside him and said quickly, "I'll talk to her; she's got to see that it won't do any good to disown you." He then ran after her.

As Arlen watched the two of them go, Roran said, "This reminds me far too much of when I announced my intentions to marry my Katrina to her father." Arlen looked at him searchingly. "He disowned her. He never did like my family."

Arlen grimaced. "That is not encouraging."

Roran shrugged, but Alaric said, "Arlen, you fancy that Leonie?" Arlen nodded. "Marry her; she's better than ten normal women not counting her looks. Even then, she doesn't look that great."

Arlen frowned. "To each his own."

They weren't helping him at all. Neither of them knew what it meant here. The story of Roran's love of how he pursued a butcher's daughter despite being a lowly farmer had passed into legend, but that was far different than now. He would rather have Katrina there, seeing as how she was the one who was disowned. And as far as he knew, Alaric had no experience with women, so all he had was speculation. He needed actual help, and neither of them could give it to him.

He loved Leonie and he loved his mother—in different ways of course. He wanted to be with Leonie, but he also wanted his mother to be happy. He didn't want to burn the bridges between them, but he couldn't stop loving Leonie. He was torn between them with no clear solution in sight. If only he could do both, but he couldn't. He would need greater wisdom than anyone else in the village; he needed the wisdom of Brynner the Elder.


	27. Brynner

When Arlen got back to the great hall he immediately went to Brynner. The old man was by himself, his walking stick at his side, sitting by the hearth in the middle of the hall. Many respected his wisdom, but some were afraid he would not give it, and so didn't seek it out. They certainly sought it out when dealing with difficult matters of village law and culture, and he often served as a judge for them. Arlen knew he would give counsel to him in his time of distress, so went straight to him.

His mother had forced him to choose between his family and his beloved Leonie, which was a decision he didn't want to make, so he hoped Brynner could give him some advice. Perhaps there was some way for Brynner to talk to Arlen's mother and convince her to not seek retribution as he pursued Leonie. Or maybe he would make it easier for Arlen to make his decision. He did not know what Brynner's wisdom would illuminate, but he trusted it and would follow it with little question.

The old man's wrinkled face was bathed in the light from the hearth and reflected off his soft eyes. His long gray beard that was curled and shaggy grew from his face like leaves from a tree. The orange light of the hearth allowed Arlen to see the pale scars on his hands and on his face from the hard life he had lived in Cathalorn for over sixty years. He was intimidating in a way, but Arlen went on.

As he approached Brynner said, "So, Arlen, I assume this is about your mother?" Arlen took a step back wondering how he knew what he was going to ask. "Your mother was here earlier asking for you and sounding very angry," Brynner explained. "But that is not the answer you sought after me for, so speak your question so that I may give you your answer."

Arlen explained his situation, to which Brynner gave no comment to until he was done explaining. When he was done Brynner stroked his beard and said, "You have quite a dilemma for a young man like yourself. The only thing worse than this would be if somehow the Ra'zac would kill you if you didn't decide by sunup, but that seems unlikely, don't you think?"

Arlen frowned. Brynner sighed and said, "I know you don't have time for the musing of an old man, but you've got to be grateful that it isn't worse."

"I'd prefer the Ra'zac be involved," Arlen replied. "That means I can kill it."

Brynner chuckled. "With something like this on your mind, I doubt it." Brynner stoked the fire with a long poker, causing sparks to fly into the air and burning wood to crack. "It will be a cold night tonight. I feel that a cold mist shall come to this place, and it shall be colder than it ever has been in summer. Winter clings to this place still, but its influence shall be driven out by forces stronger than we can imagine; forces that have been at work since before there was a word for the dawn. I suspect we are in for a cold winter, but the summer after that shall be hotter than you have ever felt in your lifetime, Arlen."

Arlen crossed his arms. "This doesn't really help."

"It should!" Brynner said urgently. "The reason any of us are here is because of love, a force greater than even that of nature! The love you feel for your family; the love you feel for your friends; the love you feel for a woman should all be cherished more than gold. We have been given the gift of love and we should not squander it."

Arlen could see where the old man was going with his speech. "So I should break it off with Leonie."

Brynner looked shocked, perhaps offended, at his conclusion. "No, you young fool! The love you have for her should be pursued as fervently as you can. But do not hate your mother if she is against you; she is only against you because she loves you and believes you made the wrong choice. If one is betrayed by a love one, it cuts deeper than any sword can and is a wound from which many do not heal. Remember this."

"Then what should I do?" Arlen asked. So far Brynner hadn't said anything of use to him. He just wanted a quick answer, but the elder wasn't giving one. It was somewhat frustrating.

Brynner put his hand on Arlen's shoulder and said, "Love wisely and be at peace with whatever you choose to do. If I were you, I would pursue the lady, but I am not as spry as I once was."

Arlen smiled because now he knew what to do. "Thank you, Brynner, for your wise words," he said respectfully.

"I am glad you think it wise," Brynner said as he smiled.

Suddenly Arlen heard someone shout, "The Ra'zac is attacking Ludger's tavern!" His stomach dropped and he ran out without even a goodbye to Brynner. Leonie was staying at Ludger's, as were Detlef and Gerulf and many others. He had to save them before one life was taken.

Arlen ran with all his strength and breath to Ludger's tavern. He feared he would tire himself out with this sort of exertion, but he had to keep going. He hoped someone followed him, but he didn't have time to check.

As he arrived outside he saw the lamps were lit outside, which usually welcomed visitors, but their current visitor wasn't welcome at all. As he went to the door he heard the crash of glass above him and he looked up briefly to see a window shatter. He lowered his face and put his arms over his head to protect himself. Once the glass had fallen he saw that Kelshk had jumped through it and he was snarling furiously. "Keep away from me, Human!" he hissed.

Arlen drew his sword and charged after Kelshk, not heeding the Ra'zac's words. But as he charged, Kelshk disappeared into the darkness beyond the lamps and Arlen stopped dead. He didn't know if a Ra'zac could see better in the dark than a Human, so he backed away from the edges of the shadows and pointed his sword to where he saw Kelshk last. He would not do this foolishly if he could help it.

As he waited for the Ra'zac to reveal himself he saw a flash of light and a roar like thunder. The flash blinded him, but when his eyes clear he saw a strange sight. It was Brynner standing with his walking stick at his side and a glowing Dragon that seemed to be made of light surrounding him. He did not think it was a real Dragon, but he didn't know what it really was. What was happening to Brynner?

Arlen saw Kelshk charge Brynner, but he just said a single word that froze the Ra'zac. "Snalglí," he said, much to Arlen's surprise. It sounded like it was from the Ancient Language. He then marched towards the Ra'zac and said, "By winter's might and summer's strength; by hound's power and fox's cunning; by all which is strong I cast you out and hope death takes you." He then raised his stick into the air and struck the ground with it, something he had done many times to pronounce judgement on a person, and said, "Atra andlát taune ono."

The Ra'zac then disappeared in a flash of light, leaving no trace except for some slightly singed grass. Arlen stood in amazement as he realized what had just happened and the implications of it. "You're… you're a magician!"

Brynner smiled slyly. "Aren't you observant? Of course I am. I have power beyond most in the Queen's Magicians as a sorcerer, but I do not use it for obvious reasons."

"You're hiding from them as well?"

Brynner scoffed. "No, you dolt. They just don't like it when I do it. I let them keep an eye on me and I don't use magic much anyway, but they'll see this was self-defense as well as defense of my fellow man. It was necessary and therefore they cannot object to my actions."

As they were talking, Alaric ran up to them and asked, "What is going on?"

"The Ra'zac came and I sent it away," Brynner said.

Arlen was shocked by his words. "You didn't kill it?"

"No!" Brynner replied. "I don't know any spells for killing. I only know how to summon a spirit, in this case the one around me," he gestured to the glowing Dragon about him, "and a few other spells, including teleportation. It is quite difficult to teleport a living creature and for it to live, though if it had to be anywhere it would be in the forest."

"Alright," Alaric said. "Once day breaks, we'll send out a search party, and I intend to be a part of it."

"Good plan," Arlen said. Suddenly he realized his own tiredness and the late hour and said, "We should head to bed after checking inside."

"Ah, so you have at least some wisdom of your own," Brynner said. "That will be useful for later."

So they checked and no one had been hurt. Gerulf and Detlef seemed to be the main targets of the attack, but somehow they managed to scare Kelshk off before he could attack them. Perhaps he had not realized they were twins when he had attacked them before in the forest, and fled when he attacked them now, thinking one of them was a magical illusion. For whatever reason, it lightened Arlen's heart to see that they were unhurt, as was Leonie.

Gerulf seemed tired though, like when Lynde had used magic to kill the Urgals long ago when they attacked. Had Gerulf used magic to fight Kelshk? That question could hopefully wait until morning.


	28. The Enemy

Lynde and Artsanna had waited an entire day for the others to come back, and so far they had not come. Artsanna had reasoned that it was unlikely for them to return until the threat before them had been subdued or destroyed. It was then that Lynde realized they only had two options: walk through the forest for days or possibly weeks hoping they would find the others, or confront the problem before them and defeat it so that there was nothing to fear in this area.

Failure either way was a strong possibility. If they lost their way in the forest, they might never be found. But if they went towards the mesas—which undoubtedly held the danger—then they might die at the hands of whatever was there. They were sure that the mesa held Dragons, somehow, so that way seemed doubly undesirable, neither did they want to end up wandering these forests for weeks or months or even years until they found someone or someone found them. They were not the best choices, but they were better than sitting around waiting for whatever the danger was to return and finish what it had started.

They were in the clearing they landed in, sitting together with Artsanna curled around Lynde. Lynde felt safe as she finished her breakfast, but there were still choices to be made.

Lynde looked to Artsanna for guidance and she was disappointed. _I do not know what we should do. I do not wish to fight other Dragons again, nor do I wish to be lost indefinitely in these strange woods. You may decide and I shall follow your decision._

With the responsibility on her shoulders now she quickly replied, _No, I don't make good decisions! You do it; you're wise._

Artsanna shook her head. _I cannot. You have allowed me to make decisions for both of us, but this is a decision that will rule our fate forever. If we fail to choose correctly, we will die, and that is why I cannot make this choice alone._

 _But that's why you should make it alone,_ Lynde said. _I am a fool among fools. I can't make a decision this big!_

 _Lynde._ Artsanna got up and walked around to sit opposite Lynde. _You must learn that even the wise can make mistakes. It is through mistakes that we learn._

 _But if we never made mistakes, we would never have to learn,_ Lynde countered.

Artsanna sneered at Lynde—a face that was most frightening on her scaly face—and said, _If that is the way you are going to be, then we are staying here another day._

 _NO!_ Lynde said, getting up. Artsanna's expression calmed and became stern. _We need to move and…_ Artsanna waited for Lynde to finish, but she didn't want to say what she thought was best. It seemed like a large gamble, but she thought it was the better than the alternative. Finally she spat it out. _I think we should go towards the mesas._

Artsanna was silent for a few moments then got up and said, _I never did like getting lost. We shall go to the mesas then, as I thought we might, and defeat the dangers therein._

As Lynde mounted Artsanna she said, _Thank you for making a decision._

 _No, Lynde;_ _ **we**_ _made the decision. You contributed your thoughts to the deliberation just like I did, and we both agreed that this is the way we should take. I think it might be a method we should try to emulate in the future, for I value your counsel, even if you yourself do not think it worthy of mention._

Lynde smiled. It warmed her heart to know that Artsanna did care about what she thought and believed it to be valuable enough to say. Ever since her actions in Surda she hadn't thought she was any good at this, but with Artsanna's confidence perhaps she could learn to trust herself with things like this. At the very least she could be on equal terms with Artsanna when important decisions came around.

They began to move through the forest, heading towards the mesa in the distance. They couldn't see it very well on the ground, so whenever they were unsure of where they were going, Artsanna climbed a tree for a better look. Of course it would be extremely difficult and time consuming to simply climb from tree to tree, and Artsanna still couldn't fly, so they kept to the ground most of the time. They made good time and were at the first mesa before sundown.

It was huge, as was its twin, at least as tall as the mesa upon which the Tower was built and twice as wide. Trees and bushes attempted to grow on the sides, and the results were fascinating to behold: small trees growing sideways outwards and bushes growing like moss on the sides. While she believed the Tower had similar features, she hadn't really taken the time to notice them. It was impressive and she began to believe that it could hold Dragons inside, if it was hollowed out anyway.

Soon they came across the first obstacle: there was no door. _There must be a door somewhere on it and a large one if a Dragon is inside,_ Artsanna said. _I will climb up it while you stay here._

 _Why?_ Lynde asked.

 _Because you will need to be in a calm and focused state in case we are attacked,_ Artsanna replied. _If the Dragons attack again, we must be ready for them, and I will be focusing on climbing and have little ability to defend myself. You must be ready to fight for both of us in case that occurs. Do you agree?_

Lynde nodded. _I understand and agree._

 _Good, now I shall begin._ Artsanna went to the base of the mesa and began to climb up the side using tiny alcoves to place her feet and pull herself up. When there were no footholds, she made them by digging them out, which took a while to do. But Lynde couldn't be focusing on that now; she had to prepare for battle.

She sat down cross legged with her hands in her lap and began to prepare. She built up her defenses using memories of strong emotions as walls and her current fears as spears. She fletched her determination into arrows and her will into a bow. No battle cry would shake her, nor assault break her. She was ready.

She waited a long time for the attack to come, if it even would. She doubted that the Dragons would attack again after the realization of the one before. It seemed that the Dragon who had tried to shift through her memories was genuinely apologetic for his actions and would most likely not do it again. She believed if the other Dragon shared that one's sentiment, then there was no need to prepare. But she would rather be safe than sorry, so she kept her defenses up.

She did not know how much time passed before she felt a presence at the edges of her mind. It was dark, blacker than a starless and moonless night, and full of hatred. It was a Dragon, but it was unlike any she had encountered. She felt its malice as it charged against her.

Her defenses held for a time, stopping the slings and arrows of emotion it sent against her before they could enter the keep that was her mind. The onslaught was great and it sent many volleys after her, but she withstood them and sent her own arrows into the heart of the battle. But as much as she fought, it eventually became too much for her and she retreated deep into her mind.

That was when the Dragon's voice came echoing in. It was harsh and evil with venom dripping off of it. _You think you can withstand me!? There is no surviving me! I outlived my Rider when he failed. He was weak, but I am strong. I was aware, but he clouded himself with illusions that only weakened him while I knew all. He died for his pettiness, but I will not fall prey to such things._

Through her fear she asked in a small voice, _Who are you?_

It cackled evilly and said, _You do not know? The legends do not include me? Perhaps you have heard of me, but it does not matter since I refuse to give my old name. I am purity in evil; I am order in madness; I am serenity in hatred; I am the nightmares you fear. Call me what you will, but I choose my name to be in my Rider's tongue: I am Bloodwrath the Forgotten, but soon I shall be remembered throughout all the world when I make you like me._

As Lynde put up a last defense against Bloodwrath, there was a glimmer of light from the back of her mind. Through a backdoor came Artsanna barreling in wildly and fighting the intruder with as much ferocity as she had displayed when she killed Trianna. _Out or you shall be burned!_ was her war cry, and it was effective. Bloodwrath retreated away and disappeared, though Lynde suspected that they had not seen the last of him.

Now that the threat was over, Lynde and Artsanna focused on each other. _Are you alright?_ Artsanna asked.

 _If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be,_ Lynde replied gladly. _Thank you._

Artsanna seemed equally glad. _You're welcome._

What neither of them wanted to speak of was the danger they faced. They knew their enemy now and had a name to call him. It was a name that inspired fear in Lynde, not for the words but the one behind them. His name was Bloodwrath and Lynde now regretted her decision to ever come here.

The danger that had been so distant now seemed real. They would need courage to fight this thing and a plan. It sounded as if he was going to destroy the world if he got out, which seemed unlikely but she believed he might try. They needed to kill him, as terrible as it was to kill a Dragon with the state their kind was in, to ensure the safety of all life. Lynde only hoped they would be able to do it.


	29. Surveying the Damage

The day after Kelshk's attack was, as Brynner predicted, foggy. Arlen could only see thirty or forty feet in front of him, which annoyed him quite a bit, but it was not a major impediment. What was worse was Kelshk's lack of interest with their trap, as Arlen viewed outside of lockup with Ehren, Alaric, and Roran. They had forgone any search parties until they knew the full extent of what happened the previous night.

Kelshk had gone nowhere near Emmerich, leaving him in the cage with their traps unsprung. They removed the traps around Emmerich and went to him. He seemed relieved that Kelshk had not attempted anything against him, but he should have been more worried. Since the trap had failed, they had a very difficult choice: did the penalty of death still stand, despite his willingness, or would they let him go? Arlen was somewhat in favor of letting him die, but that was his anger speaking.

The decision was not his but that of the others. Alaric had a strong opinion about this. "He did all we asked; he should go free," Alaric said.

Ehren had a similar opinion to Arlen though. "No. It didn't work so he should still be given the full wrath of our laws."

"But it isn't his fault that it didn't work," Alaric countered. The Rider turned to Roran and asked, "What about you? What do you say, Roran?"

"I don't think it's much of my business what goes on here," Roran replied. "I'm earl of Palancar Valley, but this isn't Palancar. The people of Cathalorn should decide what goes on here."

Alaric frowned and turned to Arlen and Ehren. His question surprised Arlen greatly. "Who is your lord?"

"We… have none," Arlen replied. He was just as confused as Alaric seemed to be, but he had never thought about it like this. Cathalorn had no lord over it; they were autonomous for the most part, but had strong ties to Ceunon. The followed the Empire, but they decided their fate; not any lord. Though he would mention the closest they got to it. "Our leaders are Brynner and Arne, but they are no lords."

Alaric shook his head exasperated with something and said, "Then we'll go to them."

"I am here," Brynner announced as he ambled over to them. Arlen hadn't noticed his approach, but here he was all the same. "You want my advice about this?"

"Yes," Alaric said. "If you would, we would greatly appreciate it."

"I had a feeling you would." Brynner looked into Emmerich's face for a good long while and said, "He died last night. Perhaps not literally, but he saw himself die a thousand times both in his rare dreams and out of them. He has passed through death and has come out different. He does not deserve the noose now, for his punishment was far worse. I say release him."

Arlen realized that Brynner was right. He himself was trained to prepare for possibilities, and to think that Emmerich had considered many deadly ones himself last night made him understand why he should live. He still did not like Emmerich, but he would at least not advocate for his death.

Ehren nodded and said, "You speak well, Brynner, and I will honor your counsel." He then turned to the guardsman with the keys to the lockup and said, "Release him."

As they opened the door Emmerich said, "Thank you. Thank you for your mercy. I won't try to test it again." And he was escorted to a house by a guardsman—not the same house as Leonie was in, just to be safe.

Now Arlen's thoughts turned to Ludger's tavern and the twins Detlef and Gerulf. They had been the ones to be attacked so he wanted to make sure they were alright. They were leaving lockup anyway, so Arlen excused himself to go to the tavern.

When he arrived he found Detlef and Gerulf outside with their spears leaning against the outside of the tavern. They were having a rather heated discussion about something, so Arlen didn't want to get involved, but once they saw him they quieted down and assumed relaxed stances. Arlen was suspicious of this, but didn't ask about it. Instead he asked, "How are you two doing?"

"Fine," Detlef said curtly. Arlen looked to Gerulf and he shrugged.

Not at all amused by their defense he said, "Can we actually talk? You can tell me what happened."  
Detlef was about to say something when Gerulf stopped him and said, "He knows."

That didn't calm him at all. Instead he got upset and growled, "You can tell him but not your own brother?"

"I didn't know what to do or who to tell, but I knew Arlen was trustworthy," Gerulf said. He then slapped himself in the face and said, "That came out wrong."

Detlef laughed. "Even your silver tongue is getting a bit rusty, is it?"

Gerulf frowned. "Silver doesn't rust; it tarnishes," Gerulf said.

"It's not like I've seen a lot of silver."

"Excuse me," Arlen interrupted. "But what exactly happened last night?"

Gerulf looked inside the tavern and the gestured for Arlen to follow him across the street. Apparently he didn't want anyone hearing this who shouldn't. Gerulf then sat on a creaky barrel and said, "The Ra'zac came for us last night; I don't know why but he just did. He snuck into our room and tried to kill me."

"How did you survive?" Arlen asked.

Gerulf gulped and said, "I used the magic spell I saw the Roden use against the Ra'zac and crippled it with pain. After a little while I felt really tired and somehow stopped doing it. I couldn't do much after that, but the Ra'zac stood up and tried to kill me again. That's when Detlef stepped in between us with his spear. For some reason he got scared and jumped out the window."

Arlen shrugged. "He might have thought one of you was an illusion and that you were more powerful than you let on. Or he thought both of you were magicians and lost his nerve."

Gerulf nodded. "I guess that Ra'zac's afraid of magic."

"Yeah…" He suddenly realized something that couldn't wait. He excused himself, but just before leaving he asked Gerulf to give his regards to Leonie.

Arlen ran straight to the great hall where Alaric was preparing a search party. He had a question for the Rider Chief that he felt was so obvious that he was surprised he hadn't considered before. As he approached Alaric he asked, "Why don't you just kill it with magic?"

Alaric turned around, surprised at Arlen's sudden arrival. Arlen then repeated his question. "Why don't you use magic to kill the Ra'zac? Lynde used a spell that killed at least fifty Urgals that were spread across the village. Why don't you use a spell like that to kill the Ra'zac without even seeing it?"

Alaric frowned and said, "Because he has wards." That answered his question somewhat, but raised another one. Alaric explained. "The Ra'zac we encountered during the Great Hunt had wards around them placed by magicians loyal to Galbatorix—or Galbatorix himself—when they were eggs. These wards protected against many spells, including teleportation, which Brynner overcame last night, but they cannot be easily overcome. I do not have enough energy to kill it at such a distance as you ask, not without Magnora, and even then I might not. Perhaps with all the strength of the village, but I doubt they would agree to me using it." Arlen agreed with that last part. "It simply isn't feasible. But you did well to point it out since sometimes people can forget these things."

Arlen nodded and said, "I'll remember that."

Alaric nodded back and then raised his sword into the air. "Let us hunt, men of Cathalorn, and find that which is most terrible to us; the Ra'zac!"

As the hunting party left Arlen to defend Cathalorn he wondered how successful they would be. Of course he didn't have to wonder; they had Alaric with him, and on his own he seemed a quite difficult opponent to overcome. He would not be surprised if he came back with the remains of Kelshk.


	30. The Gates

**If you have any interest in what has been going on with the review situation that started at the start of the month, go ahead and read this note. If not, skip completely because you probably won't like it.**

 **So as many of you know, there was a review posted on this story very early on in it's life on this site, the first day or so, which was pretty much just spam. Unlike most spam, it was religious spam, the type that people are afraid of. I can see its effect in that there hasn't been a review since then. While I and someone I know have reported this as spam (in my case, multiple times) it has not been taken care of. I did say at the start of a previous chapter that I took care of it, but this was my first time dealing with a review of this nature and in this nature, so you could say I was somewhat overconfident in the moderator's abilities (and if this story get taken down for that, I would be surprised). I have somewhat recently sent a support email that I don't know if it'll get a response (either because of poor formatting or similar reason that my in-site reports haven't been acted upon) detailing what has gone on. I doubt anything will happen though.  
** **I've done a little research into this, and there are cases similar to mine that have not been acted upon. This makes me frustrated and a little sad. I don't want people to get away with this kind of thing. Even a review like this that I think is trying to be a blessing is turning out to be a curse.  
** **If the moderators won't do anything about this, then there's something we can do to fight reviews that only bring people down or are spam: ignore them. I don't mean avoid looking at or posting reviews, but just carrying on like they were never posted. Post so many reviews that it hides the bad ones. Use encouraging "good job" reviews or constructive criticism (that's intelligent and well thought through or else the author might think you missed something crucial). Make these reviews seem distant memories, and look to the future with hope. We weren't meant to hurt each other, that was our choice, but we were meant to love each other. Let's spread the love.**

* * *

Artsanna eventually found a way into the mesa, much to Lynde's delight and fear. Now that they knew a way in they had to actually go in and face a Dragon. She was awfully scared, but she would face it as long as Artsanna was willing—after all, she was the only one who could climb up there easily.

Lynde climbed onto Artsanna's back and she began to climb back up the mesa. The door she had found was at the very top so it would be some time before they managed to get up there. Lynde hoped that Artsanna had the strength to do this; after all, she had very little food yesterday and that day as she did not know these woods well and had difficulty hunting without her wings. Artsanna didn't seem too tired though and made it to the top with only slight difficulty.

It was almost sunset by the time they got to the top and Lynde looked upon the doorway into the mesa's caverns that undoubtedly held the Dragons. It was a rather small door, considering what was inside. From side to side it was about twice Lynde's height, and she wasn't too short so that was saying something. Perhaps some magic spell made it so that Dragons could pass through, or perhaps the door was actually larger than it appeared. In any case, what they saw of the door was a golden circle with words inscribed on it around two stone semi-circles in the ground. They would have opened it, but there was no apparent way of opening it.

There was no door handle or similar around there. The only clue was the inscribing. It had four distinct messages on it going around the circle end to end, each separated by a small circle where one ended and another began. Each one was in a different language it seemed. She could not guess which was which, but she guessed that one was the Ancient Language—which the Elves used—another was the Urgal language, and while they used the same letters she could tell which was Dwarvish and which was the Human language. She could barely read what was written as it seemed styled differently than most letters she had seen.

Lynde tried to figure it out with Artsanna going back and forth about what each one might mean. It was slow going as half the time they needed to use context to realize what a word was or even what it meant. She was very glad for her reading lessons with Jeneve or else she would not have been able to recognize the smallest bit of it. They stopped when the sun set, and while they could have gone on with either Artsanna's fire or a spell from Lynde, they decided they didn't want to fight the Dragon exhausted and slept for the night.

She found a patch of grass on the mesa and made her bed of blankets there. While the ground was quite hard, at least it was summer and she could afford to use a few more blankets as cushioning between her and the ground. Besides, after sleeping on the ground like this the past few days, she had become used to it again. She suspected that she would have to do this a lot as a Rider, which made her regret it somewhat, but at least she wasn't a fugitive any more.

Lynde worried that Bloodwrath might come back and try to take over her mind while she slept, but it was better to take this risk than to be tired when fighting a Dragon. The most she ever got were dreams that all ended with booming voices saying, "Leave" or "You should not be here". She wondered what they were about, but could not guess. She was merely thankful that her fears had not come true.

Lynde was jolted awake by a putrid smell. It was like a freshly killed corpse or something was around and its fumes were traveling around making it miserable on top of the mesa. She covered her nose and mouth and looked around for the source of this. She found Artsanna feasting on some sort of furry creature that she could not put a name to. It was large enough to be considered a meal by Artsanna's standards, so while she was happy that she'd found food, she was also upset by the smell. _Could you eat that somewhere downwind?_ Lynde asked.

Artsanna looked up from her meal and snorted. _I am almost finished. A little time and this will no longer trouble you._ That did not make Lynde feel better as she still had to deal with the smell. _How about you start figuring out the rest of the inscription? I will continue this._

Lynde decided to follow her advice and set about her work. Fortunately the smell was not as strong at the door, so she could work with only a slight trace of the smell in her nose. She managed to get a half a word done before Artsanna came over, chops clean and what was left of her meal thrown off the side, and joined her.

It was easy going that morning as they had figured out most of the letters the previous day anyway. It was not even noon when they had finished figuring out what it said. Lynde read it over once more to make sure that they had gotten something intelligible out of it.

It said:

 _What lies behind these doors are not for the faint of heart or the ignorant. But if your need is great, speak so as to heard through stone and the gatekeepers shall hear you._

Lynde wasn't sure what all of it meant even though she knew the words, but she decided to try what they suggested. She screamed as loud as she could for the doors to open, but they did not. After a few minutes Artsanna suggested a different course of action. _Perhaps you should use magic._

Since Lynde had nothing better to try, she did that. With her training from Hvirag she managed to concoct of spell to allow her to speak through the stone and into what lay beneath. "Open," she said, hoping the spell would work.

After a few seconds the stone doors slid into the sides of the doorway to reveal a chasm as large as the doors with a winding staircase leading down it. Artsanna examined the tunnel and said, _If I were a bit older, I would not be able to fit. As it is now, I am barely large enough. I will go down first so that if I become stuck it will not mean your imprisonment as well._

Lynde nodded. _I understand._

Artsanna hesitated though, and said, _I found your spell most impressive. You have learned much with Hvirag._

Lynde couldn't help but smile at the compliment. She then remembered what she could not do and said, _If only I could fix your wings._

Artsanna nodded knowingly and said, _True that would be good. But I can do without for now._ She then took a deep breath and began to climb down the tunnel.

Artsanna had spoken truly as Lynde could see the silver Dragon had to become very compact and be very careful as she went down. Her sides often times rubbed up against the walls, making a most terrible noise and probably scratching her scales. Lynde could feel that, even though Artsanna's vanity was minor, she was most displeased with the affects this climb was having on her scales.

They eventually got down to the bottom of the stairs, where they found the tunnels opened up a bit more. It was still cramped for Artsanna, but at least it wasn't as bad as the stairway. They went along for a while without finding anything of note.

Eventually they did find something. A large stone chamber lit by blue flameless lamps. But they had a concern more pressing than the color of the lamps. It was a tall muscular man with the head of a Dragon made entirely of silver. He appeared to have no clothing except a loincloth, but that was also silver. She would have thought him a statue had it not been for a single fact: he moved.

The silver Dragon man raised his purple sword—similar to a Rider's—and his shield and announced, _Speak, intruders, and give me your names._

Lynde had not been prepared for such a warrior and wanted to run from him. But they were there on a mission and it would not be her cowardice that stopped them from achieving it. She put as much bravery into her voice as she could and said, "I am Lynde of Cathalorn, daughter of Herbst and Fayre, and Rider bonded to Artsanna."

 _And I am Artsanna the silver Dragon, who fought Shades and killed the sorceress Trianna,_ Artsanna declared.

 _I had not expected you._ The warrior lowered his sword and said, _I am Cuaroc, Hunter of the Nïdhwal and Bane of the Urgals. I guard the doors to this place from the unwanted._

"And what is this place?" Lynde asked.

 _This is a prison; a prison for the mad ones._


	31. Hope

They had yet to find Kelshk. Alaric's search party had turned up with nothing and Arlen was beginning to think they weren't going to find him. The party went out the following day, leaving Arlen behind again to defend Cathalorn and wait for them to come back. He hoped they would find Kelshk dead and they would finally be done with this whole thing, but it seemed unlikely somehow.

As Arlen sat outside on the steps of the great hall he longed for it to be over. This was such a lovely season spoiled by the presence of the Ra'zac. His troubles would only be small ones if it hadn't been for that monster. Even if it was intelligent, intelligence had no bearing on what could be a monster or not, and it certainly was. It was unrepentant, manipulative, terroristic, and worst of all hungry for Humans. Why wouldn't it just lie down and die?

His thoughts were disturbed by the approach of his mother. While he could blame the Ra'zac for most of his problems, he wasn't so lucky when it came to his mother. He was somewhat surprised she had left their house considering the state of things. He would have expected her to be trying to hold things together at the house or at the very least honor the state of emergency they were in.

She went up to him and sat beside him. Her eyes looked to the Spine and not him, but he kept his eyes on her. He didn't know what her intentions were, but he felt that she would soon state them. "I was ready to disown you," she said almost surprised. "What kind of a mother would I be if I did that?"

He cocked an eyebrow as she continued. "Brynner came by the other morning and we talked. He said that maybe I should talk to Leonie before doing anything drastic. I did. I thought 'What harm could it do? I'll just know the sort of gutter trash I'm telling him not to think of marrying". And you know what, I was wrong; she wasn't any king of gutter trash. She was a bright, polite, beautiful young woman who could make a boy like my son very happy. I didn't see anything to get upset about, so I didn't."

She took his hand in hers and looked into his eyes with her own teary gray ones and said, "I'm sorry if I caused you pain. I thought that women like her weren't good enough for my boys because of their raising. Turns out I was wrong this time."

As he looked into her eyes he understood her. She only wanted what was best for her children, but she didn't always know what it was. He put his arm around her shoulder and said. "It's okay, Mom. You were just trying to look out for me." They wrapped their arms around each other and hugged for a good long while.

When they finally drew away from each other Arlen's mother said, "I should tell you though that I hope you spend plenty of time around your children because I do not want them picking up that woman's accent; it's too guttural for my tastes."

Arlen laughed off the awkwardness of that request and said, "That's thinking a little far forward, don't you think?"

His mother smiled and said, "Perhaps."

Arlen felt warmth in his heart now that their conflict had been resolved. He hated being on the other side of an issue from someone he loved, especially when the stakes were their love. He hoped he would never be in this situation again.

Their moment was interrupted by Alaric and his search party coming back. They were early in returning, which concerned him slightly. What concerned him even more was that he believed Alaric set out with five guardsmen not four, though it could have been his imagination. They looked discouraged. Arlen met them and asked, "What happened?"

Alaric shook his head dejectedly and said, "The Ra'zac. One of our number—Ermen—went to relieve himself when we took a rest. He didn't come back. We looked for him, but we found no trace. The Ra'zac is still alive and he is still hunting us."

Arlen's blood boiled at the news. The Ra'zac refused to die! All of their work had been for nothing! All their plans were for nothing. Every attempt became a failure. He was tired of it and if their next plan didn't work he felt like he would explode!

That was when he noticed a faint thudding sound in the distance. It was small at first, but it grew louder and louder. The wind picked up and increased in strength until it felt like he was going to be carried away in it. As Arlen turned around he had to shield his eyes from the bits of debris that the wind tried to blow in his face. That was when he something that made his heart leap and his spirit rise: it was Magnora.

Arlen would have jumped for joy at the sight of Magnora had Alaric not done it first. She flew towards the clearing she had first come in and many went to meet her, including Arlen and Alaric. She had returned and there was little Kelshk could do about it.

Alaric went to her first and he said aloud for all to hear, "What took you so long?" Arlen didn't hear the response to that, but she did seem to reply as Alaric then said, "Well at least you're here now."

As Alaric went to his saddlebags Ehren showed up and asked Arlen happily, "Have you ever been more happy to see a Dragon?"

After a moment's consideration he replied, "I'll have to think about that one."

Ehren laughed and said, "I forgot you knew a Dragon."

"Yeah she was… she was special." Artsanna would have killed the Ra'zac by now. She was a hunter by nature and could have easily tracked down the Ra'zac. Of course she had other strengths, but her hunter's skill would have been most appreciated now. Arlen decided that he'd have to settle for Magnora since Artsanna wouldn't be coming any time soon.

As Alaric dismounted from Magnora, she shook and made him fall again, this time a somewhat lesser fall. Despite the joy Alaric had displayed when Magnora first appeared, the two of them were still somewhat dysfunctional. He had no idea how those two survived in battle, but they had to somehow.

Alaric got back up from where he had fallen and went to Arlen and Ehren. He looked happy despite being thrown off. "This is great," Alaric said. "Now we can start to plan a real battle against the Ra'zac; the final battle."

That confused Arlen somewhat. "A real battle?"

Alaric grinned. "You've seen Lynde and Artsanna fight, but you haven't seen a Dragon fight to the fullest or a Rider with more than one trick up his sleeve. We have survived this long for a reason and I'll tell you that reason after an ale; I want to celebrate!"

As those assembled followed Alaric to Ludger's tavern, Arlen wondered what he meant by all that. He knew that Alaric had tricks like his throwing knives and his right arm actually being good, and that Magnora was a powerful Dragon, but he hinted at something else. It sounded like he had some other advantage. While he had no doubt that Alaric, when prepared, was a dangerous opponent, he made it sound like he was invincible. Perhaps it was just to inspire confidence in others that he said such things—he could find out later. For now he felt like going along with them to the tavern, but not for ale.

As they approached the tavern he saw Ludger, Leonie, and several others standing outside. Upon seeing Leonie, Arlen ran up to her and lifted her into the air by the waist. She was quite surprised by the act, and so was he. He didn't hold her up for long though; no matter how heavy or light a person was, they were still a Human being, and Humans tended to be heavy even for someone like him who was strong. He let her down laughing and embraced her.

In that moment he treasured her more than any gold or gems anyone could offer him. He embraced her without fear or hesitation. His mother had agreed to their courtship, and it was like a heavy burden had been lifted off of him. He could love Leonie with no repercussions from his family, and that was half of his joy.

The other half they inquired about. "What's the news?" Ludger asked.

"Yeah, why the sudden forwardness?" Leonie asked.

He just kept smiling and whispered to her, "I'll tell you later." He then looked to the crowd and yelled so all could hear, "Soon the beast will die!"

There was a cheer from the crowd, but Ludger asked, "How soon?" as did many people.

Arlen turned to Alaric, and the Rider Chief said, "By sunset tomorrow the Ra'zac will be dead and Cathalorn free from its terrible grip forever. This I swear to you."

"And what's so different about this time?" Arne, who had apparently joined them, asked.

Alaric stared straight at him with a look that made the man step back a little. "This time we're not holding back. This time the Ra'zac will learn that we were going easy on him; that we weren't at our best. Now we are, and he is going to fall to our might."

As the crowd cheered and engulfed Alaric, Arlen and Leonie slipped away. They went to a nearby alley and Arlen told Leonie of his mother's original opposition to their relationship and how she changed her mind to allow them to pursue each other as much as they liked. Leonie was pleased and hugged Arlen.

This day had started horribly, but it had changed. Now instead of anguish and despair, he had hope. There was hope for Arlen and Leonie and for the people of Cathalorn. It was then he figured that all dark things that stood in the way of happiness would fade, and eventually even the greatest evil could be overcome.

At least now it seemed like it. He feared for the day when he wouldn't think so. He feared it would come quietly and slowly, that it would turn him into a shadow of what he was now. But it was not that day, so for now he could feel joy and hope. It wasn't like it was the end of the world.


	32. The Wardens

Lynde stood across from the silver guardian who called himself Cuaroc with Artsanna at her side in the massive stone chamber lit by flameless blue lamps. The warrior was a terrifying sight to behold, but she thought that was the intention. Despite his terrible appearance he was amiable enough to talk. What he had just said still haunted her; that this was a prison for those called "the mad ones". She decided to find out what that meant.

"What do you mean by 'the mad ones'?" she asked.

 _The mad ones are Dragons who have lost their Riders,_ Cuaroc stated. _They were quite agitated when their Riders died, and we could not allow them to rampage after the one who killed their Rider for various reasons._

 _What reasons?_ Artsanna inquired. It almost sounded like an accusation to Lynde.

 _If you do not know who is here, then I shall not say why they are here,_ Cuaroc said. Lynde was disappointed with that; after Artsanna's question, she kind of wanted to know the answer. _At least, not before I ask you why you are here._

Lynde was more than happy to explain. She told Cuaroc of their mission with the other Dragon Riders, their attack on their way here, and what followed after. All the while Cuaroc kept a straight face, though it was not as if he had any choice in the matter—any choice Lynde knew that is. When she finished explaining everything, Cuaroc said, _I apologize for my hostility. You should be well compensated for our failure to contain them._

His choice of words seemed to intrigue Artsanna. _"Our" as in more than one of you?_

Cuaroc nodded, requiring his entire body to pivot. _There are others, but I should ask you one thing first: what do you know about the Eldunarí?_

At first Lynde didn't believe she had heard the word before, but Artsanna reminded her of something. While the silver Dragon had not been physically there for what seemed like so long ago, their thoughts had been linked for the learning process and as a result she remembered it with perfect accuracy. When Kaesdir had arrived at the Tower several days ago, Doraedor had told them of something he had heard the Elder Rider say and it was the word Eldunarí. That was all Lynde knew about it, but Artsanna had a strange feeling that made her suspicious.

 _I know what an Eldunarí is; I can feel it within me as Lynde may feel her stomach or her heart,_ Artsanna said.

 _But do you know everything about it?_ Cuaroc asked. _Do you know its true power?_ Neither one of them could say yes so they didn't say anything. Cuaroc then said, _Then you cannot know all the secrets here, though there may be one you should know._ With that subtle hint Lynde now wanted to know more about this place and its secrets. She waited for him to speak on this secret they should know. _Artsanna, you say you killed Trianna the sorceress. Is this true?_

Artsanna nodded her head and said, _If I had not killed her with the first strike, the second or third would have most certainly done it. If that was her, which it probably was, she is most definitely dead._

 _Then you should be the one to release one of our prisoners. This news will bring him some peace, I think._ Cuaroc pointed to a tunnel leading out of the chamber and said, _That way is to his cell. I do not know what he wishes to be called, as the Dragons here tend to change their names quite a bit. I think one of them simply wishes to defy us with it._

That raised a question in Lynde so she asked it. "Is it Bloodwrath who wishes to defy you?"

Cuaroc sounded surprised as he answered. _Yes. He named himself to you?_

"Yes, during his second attack."

 _Well that is most unusual._ Lynde almost thought he sounded disturbed, but she wondered what reason he would have for being disturbed. _I would like to apologize again for the breach. Sometimes even with our precautions they managed to break through and attack at random. The natives fear this place and rarely go near it. You were fortunate to gain help from them._

Cuaroc then pointed again to the tunnel and said, _Go that way and release one who has been here long enough._

Lynde hesitated slightly and asked, "Is it Bloodwrath?"

Cuaroc shook his head, requiring his torso to move as well. _No. Bloodwrath is never getting out of here. We must guard him at all times to prevent him from escaping. It is our duty and our burden never to allow his escape._

Lynde nodded to show her understanding. "Then this other one is safe?"

 _Safe?_ Cuaroc said, surprised with her question. _Of course he isn't safe; he's a Dragon! But he will be much safer now than before, if he was the one to go through your memories, which I suspect he was. All the same, you should prepare wards against fire and heat if you haven't already._

Cuaroc's speech had not filled her with confidence, but she would go anyway to bring peace and freedom to the Dragon he had mentioned. She prepared her courage and began to walk towards the tunnel. But she had a question before she left. "What is the Dragon's name?"

Cuaroc shook his head and said, _As I said, he changes his name quite often so I cannot know if he hasn't changed it again. He will have to name himself to you at his own discretion. Also it is something of a maze down there in the event of my defeat, but when you are lost be ready to accept help from the other wardens. I will tell them to expect you._

Lynde quickly asked, "Do all the wardens look like you?"

 _No,_ Cuaroc said, _the others look… stranger._

With that thought in mind, Lynde started her journey down the tunnel not knowing what to expect. Artsanna followed her close behind. It was still cramped for the Dragon, but she could handle it. They made their way to a turn and then stopped.

Both Lynde and Artsanna were unsure which way to go; right or left? Neither way seemed particularly better than the other. They eventually decided to go right and hope for the best. After a while they hit a dead end, so they went back and went the other way.

It went like this for a long time, and they were getting tired of it when something contacted them telepathically. Lynde was mistook it for Bloodwrath at first and prepared for a fight. Artsanna however told her, _It is merely one of the wardens Cuaroc told us of._ That allowed Lynde to relax and listen to the voice.

The warden directed them through the twists and turns of the maze for a while, telling them which way to go and which way not to. Eventually the warden could no longer help them, as he said, _I was only told the way this far. Another warden will need to assist you the rest of the way._ As he had told them, another warden contacted them and led them even farther into the maze, but even her knowledge was limited and gave them to another warden. So it went, being passed from warden to warden, until they came upon a door.

This door was of stone, was only just large enough for Lynde and Artsanna to pass through, and had no clear way of opening. It seemed the wardens took care of that, as soon enough it opened with no action from Lynde or Artsanna. They were hesitant to go in to say the least.

This chamber had a Dragon who had tried to kill them before or at least leave them mindless. Lynde had no idea what he would try to do to them now that they were here in the same room. The wardens seemed to guard them from him and Bloodwrath mentally, but she did not know what power they had over him physically. She did not want to go in and neither did Artsanna.

Artsanna however said, _Come on. Let us face our fears and come out of it stronger. I do not believe Cuaroc would have sent us here to die, so let us see what we fear and set us free of it and let it free as well._

With that Lynde felt like she could face the Dragon inside, but she had one request of Artsanna. _You go first._


	33. Baeguirn

Lynde and Artsanna entered the chamber where the mad Dragon was kept with great apprehension. It was a large chamber, big enough to fit the dormitories at the Tower inside it. Great stone columns supported the whole the roof, thick enough that if Lynde could lie flat her feet and head did not need to go off the edge even slightly. But all this was not the most notable thing in the room; that honor belonged to its occupant.

Here was a Dragon as large as Haldthin or Ragni, or perhaps even bigger. He had a starved look to him, but his bone plates looked just as strong as Artsanna's, and he had them both on his head and his shoulders like a helmet and pauldrons. In the blue light from the flameless lanterns his scales looked like a deep purple with a hint of red—which made Lynde think his scales were naturally somewhere between the colors. He looked upon them with curiosity just as they looked upon him with awe.

Lynde stared at him a while, realizing he was actually quite tame. He didn't try to kill them or hurt them, like he had before. There was no anger about him, only curiosity with these strange newcomers. Lynde decided to speak to the Dragon, though she was still a little hesitant that it might cause some violent reaction from him. "I am Lynde of the Riders," she said.

 _Oh yes, I know,_ the Dragon said. _I saw your memories._ She would have rather let _that_ memory die, but it was true and she should have expected that. _I didn't think your hair would be so dark though._ At that Lynde looked the hair on her shoulders and noticed that while it was usually brown, it was much darker in the blue light. She wondered why the lamps were blue, but didn't think on it further.

She looked upon the Dragon and asked, "What is your name?"

The Dragon seemed to laugh in his mind and then said, _Since I know Trianna is dead, I am no longer a slave to hatred and revenge. I see things like my old self once again, if somewhat changed._ Lynde wondered why Trianna's death changed things, but felt that she would soon find out. _I am once again Baeguirn, the Rider of… it has been so long I have forgotten her name. I see her face, hear her voice, feel her soul, but I cannot remember any name you might know here by. She had a nickname though. It was War Heart or something like that. No it was in the Ancient Language. Fyrn'hjarta! That's it; her name is Fyrn'hjarta!_

Suddenly it all made sense. This was the Dragon of Fyrn'hjarta, the Kull warrior of the First Four who died during Trianna's attempted takeover. He had no need for revenge now that Artsanna had killed Trianna. He had probably seen it in Lynde's memories when he looked through them. They had avenged Fyrn'hjarta for him without even meaning to and freed him from the prison of his emotions.

Beaguirn bowed to the pair and said, _You have my eternal gratitude, Lynde of Cathalorn and Artsanna the Avenger._

 _You are welcome, Baeguirn the one who is now free,_ Artsanna replied. Lynde could sense her enjoyment at the title "avenger". It sounded fierce to her and it meant that she done a service to one who had been wronged.

Baeguirn raised his head and said, _Now I may leave this place and eat food again; two things I have longed to do during the many years I have been here._

His statement disturbed and surprised Lynde. "You haven't eaten in all your time here?"

 _No._

"Don't the wardens feed you?"

 _The "wardens" as you called them give me energy to survive, which I would have gotten from food, but no I have not eaten. It was deemed too difficult to get enough food for me on a regular basis._

Her heart felt for Baeguirn, and she immediately went to Artsanna's saddlebags. She got out all the strips of dried and salted meat they had in the bags—which was plenty for a Human but would only be a light snack to a Dragon like Artsanna let alone Baeguirn—and offered it to the giant Dragon saying, "Take this. You deserve real food after so long."

Baeguirn's eyes lit up and he lowered his mouth to eat. She put it on the ground first so that she wouldn't accidentally lose her hands, but Baeguirn was happy enough to eat it anywhere. He quickly ate all of it, but he seemed happy with it no matter how little he had eaten. _Thank you, Lynde of Cathalorn._

She smiled. It felt good to give someone what they needed, or rather wanted desperately. She was glad she could be of help and said, "You're welcome."

 _How are you going to get out of here?_ Artsanna asked suddenly. It was a good question considering the circumstances. The tunnel that had taken to get there wasn't big enough for a Dragon of Baeguirn's size to go through. That seemed like a flaw in the prison's construction to Lynde and a pretty big one. She wanted to know why the builders hadn't thought of that.

She also wondered who the builders were. Who could have possibly built all this? The Dwarves perhaps, but did they know what it would be used for? She also wondered who the wardens were and where Cuaroc had come from as she had seen nothing like him before. Perhaps all of these questions had the same answer, but Lynde had no clue if it was so.

Baeguirn at least answered one of her questions. _There is a spell the wardens know that will allow me to leave this place. They cannot cast it themselves for they have no such magic, but a Rider such as yourself might with the wardens' energy. Ask them for it and perhaps they will gift you with both._

Lynde searched for the wardens' consciousness' and found only strong walls stopping her. It seemed impossible to reach them, which was disheartening. If they were the only way for Baeguirn to get out of here, she had to reach them for his sake. She searched for them, but only found their walls. Then she saw an opening into one's mind and went in. That was when she discovered what was going on.

This warden was under attack by an evil presence. His walls had been broken down and he was being destroyed from the outside in. The other wardens tried to help, but she saw how they could not risk being overcome as well. That was when the warden's mind went quiet. It was still there, but nothing was in it, not even the slightest thought that might suggest intelligence or awareness. The evil had broken a warden.

That was when she felt herself under attack from the evil as well. She and Artsanna fought it, making it give up for now. But before he left them he spoke in voice that she would hear in her nightmares for it was the voice of Bloodwrath. _So the Rider continues to fight. You should have run while you had the chance, but no matter. I shall return to you once I am done with all the others._

When it left them Lynde could not help but feel cold. Bloodwrath was destroying the wardens, and with no wardens he would be free to attack anyone he wished and dominate anyone who came within mental range. She and Artsanna had to stop him no matter what!

 _What is going on?_ Baeguirn asked.

"The wardens are under attack!" Lynde explained. "It's Bloodwrath!"

As Lynde was about to run out, Baeguirn said, _I will help you from here._

Lynde stopped and asked, "How?"

 _His body is dead; only his mind remains._

That statement profoundly confused Lynde. "How is he alive if his body is dead?"

 _His mind is trapped within a black stone,_ Baeguirn said. _I will show you the way if I can. I have some memory of his portion of the prison._

Lynde did not him question further and ran out with Artsanna close behind her. Artsanna seemed to be putting something together inside her mind, but it was confusing to Lynde so she ignored it. Instead Lynde raced through the maze guided by Baeguirn's instructions and hoping that they would get there in time.


	34. Before the Battle

Arlen and all the men who had wisdom in battle had assembled in the great hall to talk of their strategy for defeating the Ra'zac. Among the assembled were Alaric, Ehren, Roran, Brynner, Baldor, and Arlen himself. The all stood or sat around a table with a map of the forest east of Cathalorn on it. The East Forest was where they had last encountered Kelshk so they would assume that's where he was now. Arlen did not know how they would find and kill him, but that was what they were there to figure out anyway.

Alaric seemed to have a plan though and he spoke it excitedly. "The way I see it, we have been holding back too much. We must sacrifice what we have in order to be victorious. While I would normally not suggest this, it seems easier than the alternatives to burn the Ra'zac out of the forest."

Ehren immediately objected. "You want us to burn down the forest—one of our greatest resources—just to kill this thing? There has to be another way."

"There are other ways, but as we've seen they don't work," Alaric replied. He then began to walk around the table to Ehren. "We've tried going in to find and kill him, and that didn't work. We've tried to starve it into attacking us, and that didn't work. We've tried using traps, and that didn't work. Everything we've tried has failed, so why don't we try something I know will work?"

"How do you know it can work?" Roran asked. "The Ra'zac could easily just leave for another part of the forest."

Alaric pointed to Roran and said, "Because I have already put spells over the forest to keep it in that place. They are relatively weak, but if he tries to leave, I'll know about it, and so far he hasn't."  
Now that there were no objections Arlen asked the big question, but in a way to let Alaric know that they were on the same side in this. "How are we going to burn it out?"

Alaric smiled and said, "Magnora will burn him out. Tomorrow she'll fly over the forest and burn a line straight through the middle. As the fire grows he'll either be forced into the sea or come to Cathalorn where I'll be waiting for him. Any questions?"

Arlen frowned. While it was a good plan considering what he knew, there was a gaping problem that no one else seemed to notice. Of course it didn't come up much and Arlen only knew of it because he listened to his father's story of when they did it and the idea of a forest fire brought it up in his mind. He pointed to where the ferry dock was on the map and said, "The dock's fireproof."

Alaric suddenly seemed to be less than happy at this fact. "You're sure?"

"Absolutely," Arlen replied. "My father told me the story of when they fireproofed it in case there was a forest fire. They didn't want to be cut off from Ceunon if it happened, so they treated to be fireproof." Alaric paused for a moment, possibly trying to think of a different solution, when Arlen thought of something else. "What if it just stayed in the shallows waiting for the fire to stop and then walked out when it finally did?"

Alaric frowned and said, "I suppose my plan wasn't perfect, but if we put someone on that side of the forest? Any more than one might make the Ra'zac run and we can't catch him if he runs. And we'd need someone who he wouldn't think was a threat from far away."

Arlen let his arms fall to his sides and said, "Someone like me, right?"

Alaric nodded. "Someone like you."

Ehren didn't like that though. "No! Let me go with him!"

Alaric answered him shortly. "If you both went, he wouldn't show. This way we'll be able to corner him without him realizing he's cornered."

"Besides, I've fought the Ra'zac plenty of times before and this time he won't have the jump on me," Arlen said as he tried to comfort his brother. He didn't want Ehren worrying about him, so reminding him of his past survival seemed like the best way to assure him that this time one of them wouldn't be walking away and that one was the Ra'zac.

Ehren nodded and said, "I guess you'll be fine. Just come back in enough pieces so that we can put you back together again."

Arlen smiled and said, "I'll do my best."

Alaric looked around the table and he probably saw what Arlen did; a lot of men with little confidence that this would work out of all the things they tried and that it would just inflict undue damage to the village. Alaric did something about it though, and began to speak. "The Ra'zac believes we are weak. No matter if he is right in thinking so or not, that is his weakness."

Arlen wondered where he was going with this and listened intently. "The Ra'zac is stronger than us, yes. He is also faster, but most of all he is overconfident. While he has escaped with his life before and even slipped right under our noses to kill our people, he grows overconfident in his ability to do so."

It was then that he began to walk around the table, talking as he did. "He thinks we're weak; that we're cripples with nothing but a handful of sticks to defend ourselves with. We are more than that. We are Human! We fight each other, we love one another, but most of all we make mistakes, and that is our advantage. By making them we can learn from them, and so we grow stronger. The Ra'zac was born strong; we made ourselves strong, and we understand that strength better than he does.

"The Elves, the Dwarves, and the Urgals all think they're stronger, and they're right. They have their _perfect_ societies where no one ever makes mistakes, but if they do make one, they get killed for it. But we Humans have the ability to survive and learn from our mistakes. Our survival is what makes us in some ways better than them. We are not better in all ways than them, but we have had to learn more than they did and in that comes understanding. We are strong in our own way, and tomorrow we'll show that to the Ra'zac."

He stopped and raised his left fist into the air. He then slammed it into the table and said, "Tomorrow we show the Ra'zac his mistakes and we make him pay for them! Who else will make the Ra'zac pay?"

Arlen slammed his fist into the table, and after he got over how painful it was he said, "I will."

Roran put his hammer on the table and said, "I will."

One by one each person at that table put their fist or something else on the table and agreed. Soon everyone was in agreement of the plan. Alaric smiled at that and said, "Good. Tomorrow we end this once and for all for Cathalorn."

Arlen and the others raised their fists and said, "For Cathalorn!"

After the meeting adjourned, Arlen went to be by himself by the great hall's hearth. Tomorrow he had a great duty to fulfil, and while he might not ever be in danger, there was a good chance he would be. He didn't need to prepare himself often, seeing as how trouble usually found him, but this time he had to wait, which was much worse. Now he had time to think.

He thought about every way the fight between him and Kelshk could end, and many times it ended badly. He needed to think of these things though; that was how he was able to defeat so many opponents. What he learned from this was that he needed to keep his distance until he saw an opening to stab him. He wasn't instilled with confidence, but at least he had a plan.

He didn't know how long he sat there by the hearth, but Leonie came and sat beside him. He was surprised at her presence, but not upset. She was a most welcome sight after having his mind on the Ra'zac for so long. She handed a cup with little wisps of steam coming from the greenish liquid inside, which he was hesitant to drink. "What is this?" he asked.

"It'll make sleeping a lot easier," Leonie answered.

Not wanting to hurt her feelings for not trying it, he took a sip. It was hot, but he could tell it had a dull, bitter taste. He also could only smell its earthy scent if he lowered his nose close to the cup. He didn't particularly like the drink but he did not necessarily dislike it either.

"You'll need to drink more of it for it to be useful," Leonie noted. At her prompting Arlen took a big gulp of it and found it even worse in large quantities. He must have been making some sort of face since Leonie laughed and said, "That's what I thought when I first drank it, but it's been in my family at least since my mother's mother gave it to her."

"Well," Arlen said, still tasting the bittern liquid in his mouth, "it certainly tastes that old."

Leonie laughed again. "I haven't needed this sort of stuff in a long time, but lately it's been the only thing that's let me sleep at all. The thought of that Ra'zac slithering into my room and… It's kept me up at night for sure."

Arlen put down the cup and put his arm around Leonie's shoulders. In turn she put her head on his shoulder. Alaric's speech about learning from mistakes was nothing. Humans weren't just defined by how they learned from their mistakes; it was much more than that. There was something fundamentally different about Humans that was unlike any other people, and it couldn't be said in any words Arlen knew. But in this moment, with their fears laid bare, Arlen and Leonie were Humans and merely Humans. They were not grand champions or evil villains. They were just themselves and that was enough for Arlen.

After a while Arlen felt himself get drowsy and he could barely keep his eyes open. He turned to Leonie and she seemed similar. He smiled and said, "Does Magnora being here really make a difference?" he asked.

"No," she replied with a smile coming to her lips, "you do."

He considered a possibility and rejected it almost immediately. He said to Leonie, "You should be getting home soon."

"Yeah, but not right away," Leonie replied. "Just a little while longer." And so they stayed there for a good long while before Leonie got up and left for home. By that time what little liquid in the cup was cold and Arlen felt tired enough to fall asleep where he was, but he managed to get to his cot first. There he cast aside all fears for tomorrow a replaced them with a hope that tomorrow Cathalorn would be free.


	35. Shruikan's Revenge

When Lynde arrived at Bloodwrath's cell she was surprised by what she found. There were two gemstones outside the room next to the door, one yellow and the other a whitish blue. Artsanna was disturbed by them for a reason she would not tell Lynde, but that not her main concern. The stone door was open and inside she saw what Baeguirn had told her of; a gemstone that was solid black like a starless night on top of a stone pedestal.

Lynde drew her sword Shield Breaker and went through the doorway. She was afraid of the stone and what Baeguirn said it contained. She did not know why or how Bloodwrath was put into the stone, but if it was necessary and in her power, she would destroy it.

She was doubtful Bloodwrath even knew she was there until he found her. His voice came upon her unexpectedly and shouted a terrible war cry. She fell to her knees and tried to fight, but he was too much. Instead of pure hatred he had something else with him as well; pride or something like it. He had broken so many others and now he would break her. But she would fight him to her last breath if she could.

She fought him away with a sword forged of her will. Each swing made the sword more powerful and lighter. She fought Bloodwrath to a standstill at which point he spoke to her. _You need not die,_ he said. _If you agree to be my emissary to the outside world, I will spare you pain. All you need do is submit to my will and be changed by it._

That didn't appeal to Lynde; the thought of being altered by this monster was disgusting to her and she would rather die than be his pawn. She also would rather live than die, but if it was a choice between living a life under his command and dying under her own, there was no competition. _I will fight you until there is nothing left of you, Bloodwrath._

At first Lynde sensed anger from Bloodwrath, but then he began to laugh. He laughed and laughed like she had said something funny. He soon stopped and said in an amused tone, _If only you knew who I was. Changing a name makes it so difficult to be recognized, but I did not choose my old name so I wanted to choose a new one. But alas, it makes you confidently reckless with your life. I shall tell you why you should fear me, child._ He then said in a low voice, _The name I was branded with by my Rider was Shruikan._

Lynde's stomach sank. All strength left her limbs, but she had an overwhelming urge to run. She knew that name and she knew who was behind it. She sensed Artsanna's fear as well and it was just as bad as hers. They were not facing just any mad Dragon; they were facing Shruikan of the Black Fire, Dragon of Galbatorix! If there were words to describe the kind of fear Lynde felt, she did not know them.

 _Good,_ Shruikan said, _be afraid. Be very afraid._ At his command she suddenly felt the urge to do the exact opposite.

She mustered her courage and stood again. She built up her defenses and tried to snap Artsanna out of her own fear. If there was one thing she would never do, it was to obey evil.

She had defied the Shade Council when they tried to make her do what they wanted, and this was just like that. Shruikan wanted to bend Lynde to his will, but she would not let him. She couldn't let him break her. She would be strong; however strong enough to defeat this evil.

Shruikan laughed at her again and said, _What is this? The child puts up a fight again? You must be joking._

She stood resolutely in the face of this evil with only one question on her mind. _Why did they let you live?_

Shruikan laughed and said, _It was their mistake. Your Elders let me live. Eragon wanted to kill me, but they talked him out of it. They believed I could be "saved"._ He laughed again. _They were fools; optimistic fools! But Eragon knew I had to be caged if it was true, so here I am. Once there were many here, but now there are only me and Baeguirn with the wardens trying to keep us in line. But no cage can keep me contained. Part of me slipped out and now it does not matter if you get away or not, for my revenge is already in motion and it cannot be stopped by any one girl and her Dragon._

 _How?_ Lynde asked, feeling fear slip into her again.

 _A Rider will be my tool of vengeance; one that put me in here._

The thought of a Rider being corrupted by this thing was too much, especially if it was one of the Elders. She immediately asked, _Which one?_

 _It does not matter, for you can do nothing about it._ Suddenly Shruikan broke through her defenses. They were weak from the fear that Shruikan had inspired in her, and now he was able to be inside her mind and do as he pleased. She trying to fight him with her sword of will, but he shattered it. He held her mind by the throat as he said, _Now you shall become like him._

Artsanna tried to fight Shruikan away from Lynde, but it did no good. Shruikan was too strong to be overcome by either of them. As all looked bleak, Shruikan began to withdraw a little. A new warrior had entered the fray, and his voice betrayed his identity. _Back away from them, Shruikan,_ Baeguirn shouted.

 _My old friend,_ Shruikan said, _what brings you here?_

 _You are no friend of mine, Shruikan,_ Baeguirn said. _Now fall to our might._

Now that Baeguirn was here and Lynde was freed, they and Artsanna fought Shruikan back. Lynde then felt the presence of many others; the wardens! Now that Shruikan had started to lose, the wardens could fight without fear.

They were on the verge of winning when Shruikan said, _I will not be caged again!_ He then slashed at them all with his anger, and many of the wardens fled. They began to prepare defenses for a counter attack, but Lynde knew what had to be done; Shruikan had to be killed for the sake of all. It did not matter what he knew of evil plots; the black Dragon had to die.

Lynde stood and approached the stone that contained Shruikan. She raised her sword to fall upon the stone, but then the ground began to shake. What felt like an earthquake shook the cavern, causing rocks to fall from the ceiling and the floor to give way. She had to jump back to avoid a boulder from crushing her.

She was afraid of what might happen if she tried again, but she felt support from Artsanna. She waylaid her fears and gave her strength. But no matter what strength she had, she could not navigate the cavern with the earthquake. _This is no earthquake, Lynde,_ Artsanna explained. _It is Dragon magic._ That changed little for Lynde, but then she began to see a way around the falling boulders and sinking floor. Artsanna was showing her what she already saw but failed to notice. She now had a path.

She charged into the cave in, sword in hand, jumping onto a bit of floor that remained. She then leapt from there to a nearby boulder that had temporarily stabilized. She couldn't stay long though as it began to roll towards the new sinkhole in the floor. She jumped off that and landed on another section of rock, this one more solid than the last.

She then began to feel tired. All the exertion from the day had weakened her severely and she had to rest before she could move on, no matter how dangerous it was. But Artsanna gave her more energy and greater strength than she had before. She no longer had to rest, and set herself back towards Shruikan.

She jumped from her resting place, and leapt from platform to platform until she got to Shruikan. He could no longer run from her; this would be the end.

But Shruikan wouldn't go quietly. _Get back from me, girl!_ He yelled and stabbed at her with his mind. Artsanna and Lynde blocked it together and forced him back. Defiant he said, _You shall not be rid of me so easily! Even if I die, my revenge shall come upon this world!_

Lynde ignored the threats or pleas or whatever they were and said, _Then let me be rid of your voice!_ She swung Shield Breaker into Shruikan's stone and it cracked. She swung again, her hand guided by Artsanna into the crack, and the stone shattered in two. For a brief moment she thought that was done, but there came an explosion from the shattered stone and she went flying backwards with metal chucks whizzing by her.

She landed on the hard stone and she began to slip from consciousness. She had done what had set out to do, no matter what the intentions of the Elders were. She had destroyed Shruikan and now, whether it was her will or not, she would rest. She closed her eyes and saw no more of this place.


	36. One Shall Fall

The day of the battle was here. Arlen—clean shaven—entered the clearing where Magnora waited. She was to take him on this foggy day to the ferry dock on the other side of the forest, which was too dangerous to be crossed on foot. She would also retrieve him once the battle was over. He knew the plan, he knew his enemy, now all that remained was to enact it.

Most of the villagers were in the houses where they would be safe, but five waited for Arlen beside Magnora along with Alaric. But these were not just neighbors who waited for him; they were family and friends. It was Ehren, his mother, Leonie, Detlef, and Gerulf who waited for him. He felt a smile come to his face as he approached them.

They had most likely come to say farewell to him. He was touched that they came out here despite the danger, but almost all of them were fierce warriors armed with either a sword or a spear, so there was little danger especially with Magnora present. He just hoped that the farewells would only be temporary and that he would return relatively unharmed.

Arlen and Ehren grasped each other's forearms and patted each other on the shoulder with their free hand. "Happy hunting, Arlen," Ehren said.

He then hugged his dear brother Ehren and said, "I hope the return is even happier."

They drew away and their mother was next to said farewell. She hugged him tightly, making Arlen blush a little, and said, "Come back with all your limbs, alright?"

"If I can, I will," Arlen replied and she let go.

Then was Detlef who just said, "Give the Ra'zac more than just a scratch this time, alright?"

"I'll give it a bigger cut than you did, Detlef," Arlen jabbed playfully and Detlef laughed heartily.

Then there was Gerulf who said, "Remember; the armpit." Arlen had actually forgotten about Gerulf's advice given to him after his battle with the Ra'zac. Now that he remembered he would have to figure out how to use this. He nodded his reply, too much on his mind to voice one.

Soon everything was cleared away as Leonie embraced him. He hugged her back and held on tightly. When she did speak it sounded like there was a catch in her throat. "I'd tell you to be safe, but it'd be safer to stay, so I'll just say to be strong. Be strong. Be strong, Iet'hjarta." Arlen didn't know what the last word meant, but it sounded like the Ancient Language. Before he could wonder about the phrase for long, he felt her crying into his shoulder.

In the brief time that they'd known each other, they learned to care for one another deeply. Just as she cried for him, his heart broke to see her so unhappy. He didn't know why it was so easy for him to care for her, but he did. It was as if they had known each other for many years before this, but at the same time not long enough. He did not know where this came from, but he both enjoyed this love and hated it for the pain it gave him. If he thought not going would save her from pain, he'd never leave, but he knew that it would only delay the inevitable and anyone else who went would be ill prepared. Only he could fight the Ra'zac, as much as it gave Leonie pain.

He lowered his head and kissed her on her temple saying, "I must go so that the Ra'zac doesn't do what I'm about to do."

Leonie looked up with bloodshot eyes from crying and asked, "And what's that?"

"Return," Arlen replied. "I am going to return after I make sure the Ra'zac never can."

She smiled and asked, "You promise?"

"I promise."

She sniffled and said trying to be firm, "Alright, but don't take too long."

He smiled and said, "I won't."

As she withdrew, everyone else began to leave. One by one they began to go where they were needed most. Ehren went to the great hall, his mother to their family's house, and the rest went to Ludger's tavern. They were those he cared about most in Cathalorn, and no matter what he did not want to forget them. He hoped he wouldn't disappoint them and die.

Alaric came by and said, "Alright, time for you to mount up." Arlen began to climb the rope ladder up Magnora's side to her back.

As he was going up, Alaric tried to give him advice on how to climb, to which Arlen replied quite frustrated, "This isn't the first time I've had to mount a Dragon this big."

"Oh, right, Haldthin," Arlen heard Alaric say from below rather dejectedly.

"And Thorn."

He could hear Alaric's surprise in his voice saying, "Thorn?"

"Yes, Thorn. Do you remember when you encountered him after you took Lynde and Rose to Gil'ead?" He looked down—not the best thing to do when he was that high up—to see Alaric's nod. "Well I was under Thorn's wing."

The look on Alaric's face was amazing. He somehow managed to combine surprise, anger, and disbelief all into one slack jawed expression. Arlen laughed as he reach the top of Magnora's back, glad he had met Murtagh and Thorn in that blizzard so long ago.

They did not want to waste time, so Magnora would leave shortly, but before they did Arlen decided that he had kept a secret for far too long and it was time to tell it to his fellow Ra'zac hunter. "Hey, Alaric." Alaric looked up again. "The Ra'zac has a name. It's Kelshk."

Alaric nodded. "I know; he told me."

Arlen couldn't believe that. "He told you?" Alaric nodded again. "Then why didn't you tell everyone?"

"For the same reason you didn't; to give them a name for him would have been too much for most people. It was better to keep this a secret and believe they were being hounded by a smart beast rather than a beastly person." Arlen nodded understandingly and Alaric nodded back. "Farewell and fight better."

And then Magnora took off with Arlen on her back. It was exhilarating to be on the back of a Dragon again after so long, flying higher than most Humans would ever be, even if it was only seventy feet. They flew over the great pines of the forest and went straight to the ferry dock.

Magnora landed in the water, making a huge splash, and Arlen walked off her back onto the dock easily. As she started to go back up she said to Arlen in a voice much higher than he would have expected, _Do well, Shadeslayer. Do not make our previous mercy be in vain._ He wasn't entirely sure what she meant by that, but that seemed to be a thing today. She flew away over the pines, leaving Arlen to wait for either Kelshk to come to him or to Alaric.

She flew away towards the mountains at the northern edge of the forest, and then came sweeping in, breathing fire onto the trees. The forest became an inferno in seconds and Arlen was caught unawares as he realized all that the forest had meant to him. It had always been there, giving the village timber, but it meant more to him than that. Sometimes he and his friends would sneak out to play in the woods and pretend they were mighty warriors fighting Dragons or Urgals or the like. He had also met Artsanna and Rose in those woods for the first time, as hostile as it was. And now it burned with dark smoke rising and mixing with the fog to create a sea of grays above the forest.

He waited now for Kelshk and drew his sword Mor'ranr. The wait was altogether too long, as he had found waiting to be as of late. But then something came out.

It was not a deer or a bear or any other wild animal, but a sickly creature with black armor and blacker eyes. It did not look right as if some illness was afflicting it, but the name of it he did not know. It walked towards Arlen like it was on the hunt, but it was not the hunter here. It was Kelshk and he was the prey.

Arlen pointed Mor'ranr at Kelshk, but he did something unexpected; he talked. "What did Human magic maker do to me?" Kelshk said in a sickly voice.

Arlen did not answer him, but charged yelling, "For Cathalorn!" But Kelshk was still fast and jumped off the dock before Arlen got to him. While he expected a splash, he instead saw Kelshk grab onto a supporting beam and skitter up it onto the underside of the dock. Arlen was not fast enough to get to him and stab him through the boards, and he went away up to the other side of the dock. He climbed up on top of the dock, but now he was cornered by Arlen. He probably wasn't thinking very straight if that was intentional.

Arlen kept his distance, knowing that Kelshk would probably just do that again if he instigated it. Instead he let Kelshk attack him. Kelshk tried pouncing on him, but he ducked. He didn't duck fast enough though and his forehead met with the Ra'zac's claws. He skin was shredded and he didn't know how much inside was damaged. Blood dripped from the wound and he put his sleeve up to soak it up. He needed time to fix it up properly, and he got the feeling he wouldn't get it.

He looked at Kelshk and saw the weak point Gerulf had mentioned. If he could get his sword in there, he could stab right through his chest and puncture his lungs and heart, that is if they were there and not somewhere else anyway. He just needed to get an opportunity to do it.

Kelshk jumped again, but Arlen was ready this time. He let the Ra'zac tackle him and try to claw at him. In reply Arlen lunged at the Ra'zac's armpit. He missed the chest and instead Mor'ranr stabbed right through the shoulder. Kelshk screamed to the sky, but Arlen took advantage of this and propping his foot against the Ra'zac's chest he twisted his sword and cleaved his arm off completely.

Unfortunately from this they both lost their balance, and Arlen fell onto the dock hard. Kelshk was not so fortunate and fell off the dock, making a loud splash as he hit the water. He yelped and screamed as he flailed wildly in the water. He was at such a depth where it was just taller than his head. He apparently didn't know how to swim or simply couldn't and was jumping off the sand below the water trying to keep himself from drowning. He was slowly making his way to shore, which was something Arlen couldn't allow.

Arlen jumped off the dock, aiming for a deeper portion so he wouldn't break his bones on the ground below the water, and made a big splash. Now his height advantage over the Ra'zac finally came into play as he was able to stand somewhat uncomfortably where Kelshk would drown. Kelshk turned his head around to see Arlen just before he cleaved his head in two with Mor'ranr. The Ra'zac stopped jumping and now simply sank to the bottom. He was dead; Cathalorn was free.

Arlen made it to shore and bandaged the wound on his forehead with the sleeve he didn't use before to soak up the blood. And there on the shore his waited for Magnora to come back as the water turned a disturbing green.

It was sunset by the time Magnora came, and the East Forest had completely burned down at that point. Many of the animals that the forest had been a home to had gathered in the shallows, but now fled in the presence of a Dragon. Alaric dismounted from Magnora and walked up to Arlen. He asked, "Is Kelshk dead?" Arlen nodded. "Then the Ra'zac are dead forever," Alaric said regretfully.

Arlen did not feel the same regret. They had rid the world of a menace that was too terrible to exist any longer. Had they not done what they did, the world would not be as safe as it now was. They had dispatched a menace the only way they could, and now they were safe and free. Cathalorn was free.

All the same, he didn't want to linger here at the site of the victory any longer. "Let's go home," Arlen said. Alaric held out a hand and Arlen took it to help himself up.


	37. Light

It was the day after their victory over Kelshk that the people of Cathalorn held a celebration of their newly returned freedom. It was after most of the people had returned to their homes and the few who had housed them getting their own homes back the way they were. Arlen and his mother took most of the morning getting everything back in place, but it still wasn't the same as how it was before the Ra'zac. When afternoon came there began talk of celebration, which everyone agreed was right after what they had been through. So in late afternoon everyone gathered in the square outside the great hall and began to celebrate.

Arlen kept to the edges of the party, leaning against the side of a building and watching from a distance, but he could see what was going on clearly. They started by singing an old song that Arlen had only heard one other time—when his father and the others returned from the war—and its cheery tune cast a sort of spell over everyone who heard it. Soon there dancing and Ludger got out both his old lute and a few barrels of ale from a good year. Soon everyone was laughing and cheering and making toasts. Arlen couldn't help but smile at this sight, but felt a little like an outsider.

He'd won the battle, but after everything he'd been through outside the village could he ever return to be just Arlen of Cathalorn? He was Arlen Shadeslayer, Arlen the Rebel, and now was Arlen Ra'zac Bane as Alaric called him. Did he belong here at all or was he just pretending?

He didn't notice Alaric come beside him initially, but he tried not to react when he did notice the Rider's presence. He was looking at the party as well with an expression that betrayed how he didn't belong. He eventually said wisely, "I've only returned once to my village after I left to become a Rider. I'll never forget how they looked at me then. They saw me not as I was but with admiration and respect I didn't earn and fear that came with having a Dragon. It was as if I become someone else in their eyes, like an Elf." Arlen and Alaric eyes met and the Rider said, "You're lucky that you still have people to go back to. Go and be the person they want you to be, whether that's a brother, a son, a friend, a neighbor, or… a lover."

Arlen looked back to the party and found Leonie standing there. She had daisies in her golden hair and a white dress. She looked more beautiful now in the fading light of the evening than any woman he had ever seen in any light. He couldn't help but smile at her as she smiled at him. "Do you want to dance?" Arlen asked respectfully.

"Oh yeah," Leonie replied. "Let us dance until the sun can't hold its head up and be happy until the last flower wilts." Arlen and Leonie walked hand in hand back to the party where they were building a bonfire.

But before they enjoyed themselves, Arlen saw two women and remembered something. They were Gelsey and her daughter Edana, Lynde's adoptive family. He had avoided them for the fear that they held it against him that Lynde had not returned as he had. But he decided that he would fear them no more and went to them, excusing himself from Leonie for a moment.

He walked up to them and said, "Hello, Gelsey and Edana."

Gelsey looked him over passively and said, "What is it, Arlen? Have you finally figured your trousers need mending?" Arlen looked down at his pants, but found nothing that needed repair. Gelsey laughed and said, "I'm just kidding." Arlen began to smile and sighed. "Now what did you want to talk to me about?"

Arlen's smile faded and he said, "I want to talk to you about Lynde." Gelsey's smile disappeared and Edana frowned. Feeling the heat of their gaze he said, "I'm sorry that she did not come back to you. I'm sorry if you think I should have talked her out of going to the Riders, but I knew that I had no right to do so."

Gelsey shook her head. "I don't blame you or Lynde or her Dragon, Arlen," she said almost happily. "I don't blame anyone or anything. She was meant to go and be a Rider. I know this just as much as I know that she'll come back one day, if only to visit us or her father." She patted him on the shoulder, which was difficult since she was much shorter than him, and said, "She'll be back, and when she is, she'll be our hero."

Arlen nodded. He was glad that she didn't hate him for letting Lynde go, or hate Artsanna for convincing her to go. He too looked forward to their return, and hoped it wouldn't be too long before then. Edana was different though. "I blame you a little," Edana said. Arlen smiled and went back to Leonie.

Arlen and Leonie held each other's hands as they began to dance in a circle and drifted apart. As they jumped the fire was lit and the dry summer wood went up quick. They kept dancing for hours until someone cried, "Look to the sky!"

Arlen looked up, expecting to see trouble, but find none. Instead he saw stars out from behind the clouds and a full moon in the sky. He had not seen it in a long time, but with summer nearing its end and them beginning to see the days shorten slightly he could see the stars without staying awake for longer than he'd like. It was amazing to see those lights in the sky again and he would treasure this moment always.

He turned to Leonie still watching the sky in wonder. He knew that he loved her, but there still hesitation in him. There was much he still wanted to know about her before making any big decisions, but he knew that she was the woman that someday he would like to marry. Perhaps he'd let her know that one day, but for now they basked in the light of the bonfire, the stars, and the moon, and were happy.


	38. Awakening

Lynde slept for as long as she liked. She did not dream exactly, but instead heard what was going on around her. She didn't remember most of it and couldn't derive meaning from it, but there was something going on around her that someone was upset about. She stayed in darkness and ignorance until one day she awoke.

She opened her eyes dazedly and looked around. She expected to see the morning sky, but instead saw the cold, smooth stone of the ceiling lit by golden sunlight. She was back in her room—probably—at the Tower of the Dragon Riders, much to her disappointment.

 _I've been hurt, haven't I?_ she thought. When no one replied she got mildly concerned. Artsanna was probably sleeping, but she might not have been for all Lynde knew.

She looked around to see what was going on and found the Rider Karasi—or some other dark skinned woman with a red Rider's sword at her belt—sitting nearby, dozing off. She was surprised to see Karasi of all people here, but only slightly so. Somehow she felt like she knew this already.

She still felt tired so she began to try and sleep again, but Karasi woke up and saw her awake. Lynde knew this because she immediately announced, "You're awake. Good. I thought you might have needed longer."

Lynde looked at Karasi unamused and spoke. Her voice was hoarse, but that was probably only from disuse. "Can I have a little longer?"

Karasi shrugged. "I suppose, but there are some people waiting to meet you once you're awake."

"They can wait a little longer, right?" Lynde asked.

Karasi smiled. "Sure."

Though apparently they couldn't as the door burst open and Jeneve and Einer came in. She didn't want to talk to them now, but she'd have to. Or perhaps Jeneve would do all the talking for her as she and Einer knelt by her bed. "Are you alright? How do you feel? Can you talk? Can you feel you limbs? Say something, will you?"

Lynde sighed and said, "I'm fine."

"Ooh that doesn't sound good," Jeneve said. "Does your throat feel bad? Does it hurt when you talk? Is…?"

 _One at a time, Jeneve,_ Einer interjected. _Do you think she can answer all of them before you ask another?_

Jeneve took a moment to compose herself and said, "So how do you feel?"

Lynde sighed. "Tired. Just tired. I don't know what happened, but I feel weak."

"Well considering what you did, I'm not surprised," Jeneve said.

 _You don't know what she did,_ Einer said. He got a look from Jeneve that was probably accompanied by a telepathic message that she didn't hear.

Lynde smiled at them. "I'm fine; you don't have to make a big deal out of it."

Karasi smirked from behind the pair of students. "The Elders called for me, Lynde," she said. "If they call for me, it's serious."

Lynde was became concerned for herself and asked, "How bad was it?"

"Oh bad," Karasi said. "You had chunks of your sword lodged in your flesh. Your organs were a mess and you were barely holding on. The Elders managed to keep you stable, but they needed to bring a more specialized healer to fix you up the rest of the way, so they got the fastest Dragon they could—faster than my own Dragon, Shival—to get me out here."

Lynde looked at herself under her nightdress trying to find where she'd been hurt, but Karasi just said, "You won't find any scars, Lynde. I was trained by Alaric himself in healing, and he's the best healer in the Order, perhaps the world. My kind of healing leaves no scars. Though I would be glad that you didn't get hit anywhere too bad; I can't repair eyes quite as well from the sort of stuff you got hit with."

Lynde nodded understandingly. She tried to distance herself from the thought of her getting hurt so badly, but that just made it worse. She managed to compose herself and asked, "Any permanent damage?"

Karasi shook her head. "None, I don't think. You shouldn't be worried. After a few days rest you should be good as new, with one minor exception."

Lynde's stomach dropped. "What kind of exception?"

Karasi handed Lynde a mirror and she looked into it. That's when she saw her face. It did not look exactly the same as when last she saw it. Her eyebrows were slightly slanted more and her hair was ever so lighter at the roots. Her features had shifted slightly as well. As she felt around she found her round ears had become slightly more angular. No one who didn't know her face as well as she did would notice, but she looked a little like an Elf now. "What happened to me?" she asked.

"Only what would have happened naturally through your bond with Artsanna," Karasi said. "A Human starts to look more Elflike the longer they're bonded, and you look about six years into the process."

All the words she could summon were, "How?"

"Well I don't know the details of the battle exactly, but it sounded like Artsanna put a lot of her own energy into you," Karasi explained. "Not only that but she began strengthening you with magic. While it's nowhere near the advanced stages like you might see with Eragon or even Alaric, we look about same, don't we?" Karasi showed Lynde her ear from beneath her dark locks and it too was slightly angled. "You're also a bit stronger now, but only a little. You should barely notice it."

Lynde took all of this in. She had been turned Elflike by Artsanna, but it was done to kill Shruikan and save them all. She didn't know what to think, but the thought that she would become even more Elflike over time and that this was going to happen anyway was more than a little disturbing. She wondered why Rose or Hvirag had never told her about this, but she gave up and decided that she actually looked better like this. While her ears were a little distracting, the rest looked good and not too Elflike.

She had one more question though. "Where's Artsanna?"

"She should be returning shortly," Karasi answered. "The Elders rushed you over here ahead of the others, so it wouldn't be surprising if Artsanna and the others came somewhere around this time."

Lynde nodded. She supposed that she would eventually sense her, but for now she could rest. It was actually a little relieving to not have Artsanna in her mind at the moment since she was a little groggy.

Lynde then remembered something and asked, "Is my sword ready?"

Jeneve nodded. "It's ready."

"Then how about I see it?"

Karasi frowned. "I usually don't encourage those in my care to take up the sword so quickly, but if you're not going to use it, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't." Jeneve then ran out with Einer following her close behind. They reminded her of children with how enthused they were even though they were older than she was.

Lynde felt a tugging at her mind and she looked to it. Artsanna had gotten within mental range and now they could talk to each other again. They embraced each other with their minds and Artsanna said, _Are you alright?_

 _Yes,_ Lynde laughed. _As I tell everyone, I'm alright._

 _I had no idea your sword would shatter like that._ Thinking back, Shield Breaker exploded along with the stone. It was not the most fitting end for the weapon, but at least it broke being used and with a replacement near at hand.

 _At least Shruikan is gone._

 _Yes. And I told the Elders of his plot._ _They told me that they were going to stop it._

Before Lynde could think on it further Jeneve and Einer entered carrying Lynde's new sword in its sheath between them. It was long and heavy indeed if they were carrying it like that. As they came to Lynde's bed she rose in her nightdress. They held it out for her and she drew it, having to use both hands to get it all the way out. The weight was dramatic, but she managed to raise it and get a good look at it.

It was a beautiful weapon. The blade looked like it was made of pure silver and it had a grayish gem as the pommel. The blade was dull for half a foot from the wide cross guard. On the sheath was a silver icon with a strange letter on it. As she put the tip on the ground and held the hilt to her chest it came almost to her chin. She raised it again and said, "This is my sword: Iet'baen."

 _And a very beautiful blade it is too,_ Artsanna added.

Lynde considered something then. They did not know which of the Elders had been corrupted by Shruikan, or if there were multiple corrupted Riders. It also seemed unlikely that the one who had been corrupted would give up without a fight. Since it was herself and Artsanna who first discovered this plot, she believed that they had to end it too. So she said to Artsanna, _And may evil know its beauty._


	39. The Fateful Letter

Nasuada looked through papers in her study and they did not look good. She did not have much time before Eragon would come again and forcefully remove her from power, and she had no suitable heir. All the men she would have trusted with this were either dead or too old to rule for long and had sons she did not trust. None she knew showed the cool head and willingness to rule, which was a problem for her.

She could not leave the Empire without a leader, which is what would happen if Eragon made her leave now. The only ones that she found remotely suitable were Roran and Orrin, but Roran had no desire to rule and Orrin was king of another country. If Orrin hadn't rebelled, she might have given him the throne, but if had never rebelled, she would never have been put in this situation. But even if she hadn't been forced to find an heir, it was a problem she had to sort out sooner or later anyway.

Alas, she had not married in the time she had been given. But even if she had a child, they would not be old enough to ascend to the throne now and she had no way of knowing if Eragon would even accept such an heir. She should have found a husband sooner, but her work had kept her too busy and in some ways she still longed for Murtagh. She knew that they could never be together while she was queen, but she still never moved past him.

Perhaps being forced to abdicate had some advantages. She would finally be allowed to be with Murtagh, if she could find him again. She wouldn't have to work so long and not see half the results of her work. She wouldn't have to meet with people she did not care for and keep a smile on her face while she did it. Perhaps it was better if she didn't have this responsibility, but that was her selfishness talking; she had to remain on the throne!

She had to be the leader of the Empire. No one cared half as much as she did that the Empire succeed or corruption and slavery be brought to an end. She had to stay to ensure the survival of the Empire, but how?

The Riders were powerful, and even if only Eragon himself came, she did not think even an army could stop him—though with Saphira, as otherwise he could be defeated. They outmatched her forces in every way, including magic, but there were fewer of them and she could use that against them. She needed powerful allies with armies and magicians more powerful than hers, but the other nations had turned their backs on her since the Second Surdan Rebellion as they were calling it. There were no allies who would answer her call; none except perhaps…

No, he would not come now. And what would the people think of this? But she had to maintain her throne if only to make sure the Empire was secure.

She wrote two letters and gave them both her royal seal. One she tied with a red ribbon, the other she left plain. "Servant!" she called.

Soon a young maid who reminded her in mannerisms of Farica entered. "You called, Your Majesty?"  
She then handed the maid the two letters and said, "Give the plain one to whomever commands the cavalry for him to read and tell him to deliver the one with the red ribbon to the person I name in the first letter. And do not delay!"

The maid curtsied and said, "Yes, Your Majesty." She then ran out of the study with the two letters.

It must have seemed suspicious that she did not tell her to give the letters to a page, but she had her reasons. It was dangerous for a page to go where she said to go in the letter; a soldier might survive better under those conditions, but who could tell? The only thing that matter was that Murtagh get his letter and that he comes back ready to fight not for his queen or for the Empire, but for his lady. Perhaps then Eragon would think twice at battling Queen Nasuada Nightstalker.

 _To be concluded in_ _ **Reckoning…**_

* * *

 **So posting of Reckoning will begin in September on the 1st, and that will be the beginning of the end for this. It's been great fun posting these stories for everyone, and writing them was a joy in itself. I've learned a lot about writing, as I do whenever I write. I hope that you'll wait that long for what will be the suspenseful conclusion to the Legacy Cycle. See you then.**


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